


Alternatives

by auburnimp



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Amnesia, Lemon, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburnimp/pseuds/auburnimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post Gluhen fantasy that ignores canon altogether.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Characterizations might be a little off but this is au after all

Prologue - Escape

He knew, somehow, that he was finally dying. He’d known the feel of a knife entering his body when that boy had careened into him. He’d had enough puncture wounds in his time as an assassin not to know what they felt like. Now the damage the knife had done to him was making him sway like a drunk, much to the disgust of the good people of this city.

Memory, like a vicious harpy, assaulted him with images as he staggered along. A younger Omi, crying over Ouka’s body. Ken, screaming that he was already in hell. Yohji, killing the woman he loved for the second time. No happy memories for him, then. None of his childhood, parents, sister, the very reasons for all of this.

He clutched at his side as he staggered on, his feet beginning to drag now, only his sheer stubbornness keeping him upright. He let his mind drift back to Yohji as he’d last seen him, completely unaware of who any of them were, including himself. The perfect escape. Now, at long last, he would get his own escape.

A strange thought occurred to him. How Yohji had always been the one to choose life over death. Even when in his deepest denial over his past, he’d worn the mask of cheerfulness. He, on the other hand, would welcome death when it came. The final introversion. The final loneliness.

Yohji. Always his thoughts returned to the man. Perhaps, if he had given more of himself, allowed them to become more than just fuck buddies, things might have been better, different. But then again, who was he trying to fool? Yohji would have left him for the first pretty face that came along. Had done so several times in fact. It was better this way. At least he knew his beloved and hated katana would be safe in a happy Yohji’s hands. The thought made him feel better, strangely.

His strength had run out. He sank to his knees beside a mailbox and stared out into the snow. Not rain this time but snow. Odd how all the major events of his life had been marked by rain. All the major turning points.

There was nothing left for him to do now but die. He folded his body over the knife and waited eagerly for the darkness to swallow him whole.


	2. Awakenings

"Give me your fucking cell phone now, you creep!"

That voice, Aya knew that voice. Tenor, made husky by years of smoking. A beautiful voice but the last voice on earth that he wanted to hear right now. Gods, no. He had to be delirious. Yohji could not possibly be here. He was happily and obliviously married and living far away.

"I don’t care if he is a deadbeat, give me the damned phone!"

Well the language was Yohji’s, certainly. He groaned softly as pain from the knife wound arced through his body, making him shudder.

"It’s okay, I’m getting help. Just hang on. Don’t die on me."

There was the sound of numbers being swiftly punched into a cell phone and then nothing.

Gradually, he became aware of blood. It was all around them like a crimson sea. They were wading, thigh high in the stuff. He and Yohji, Ken and whoever, or whatever, Omi had now become. The boy’s face was that of Takatori Reiji. He couldn’t figure that out, tried to make sense of it. Oh yes, of course, Omi was a Takatori now.

It was then that Yohji stumbled and fell face first into the gore. With an inarticulate cry, Aya pulled at him until his head was above the surface once again. Yohji shook his head and smiled at him before going under again, quite deliberately this time. He mouthed the one word ‘absolution’ before being lost to view. 

"It’s for the best," the Takatori said before dragging a struggling Ken, who was now wearing a straight-jacket, away and leaving Aya alone in the sea of gore.

"Yohji!" The cry was torn from his throat as he battled the blood and the hurt. 

Anxious green eyes were staring down at him. A hand was gently shaking him awake. "It’s okay, it’s just a dream," a voice was saying. Somehow, these impressions were soothing and Aya let himself drift off to sleep again.

He awoke to the sight of a strange, polystyrene-tiled ceiling with fluorescent lighting. A glance to the left showed him instruments and monitors. So. His hell was a hospital. That made perfect sense. He shut his eyes again, waiting for whatever punishment came next.

Gradually, he became aware of the dull ache in his side. One hand lifted awkwardly to feel bandages around the lower part of his rib-cage. Well, damn, he seemed to be alive after all. He groaned slightly and bit his lip in frustration. He loathed being a patient. He hated the weakness that went with infirmity.

"You’re awake?"

His eyes snapped open again and he looked towards the sound of that voice. Kudoh Yohji was sitting in a chair by the bed, smiling slightly.

"Yohji?" His voice was hoarse and his throat dry as if he’d been shouting, so the word came out as little more than a croak.

There was an arrested look in his companion’s green eyes before a frown marred his handsome features. "You’ve been dreaming about a Yohji," he said. "No, my name is Ito. Ito Ryo. Although the name Yohji does seem vaguely familiar. Do you know me?"

"No." He couldn’t tell him, couldn’t risk all those memories dragging this seemingly contented man back into insanity. He turned his eyes away before deliberately lying to his onetime friend and lover. "You remind me of someone with that name. Someone I haven’t seen for a while."

The whole, surreal conversation served to convince him that he was in an actual hospital and not hell. He was alive and would doubtless go back to killing. What else could he do, after all? The thought filled him with grief and he sighed.

"Ah," Yohji said quietly, apparently content with his answer. The man chuckled then. "You know my name, but I don’t know yours. You were checked in as a John Doe."

Aya took a deep shuddering breath. Would the giving of his name make Yohji remember? Perhaps if he gave his real name it wouldn’t trigger any memories. "Ran, my name is Ran."

"Ran. It suits you somehow."

He had long ago lost count of the times Yohji had made throwaway remarks like that. The very annoying habit was part of the man.

"It was good of you to wait, Ito-san." He risked glancing at his rescuer once more, who shrugged.

"I had nothing else to do. Nowhere I needed to be. And I know how disorienting hospitals can be. I woke up in one myself, not so long ago."

Yes, Aya realised, with no memory of who you were or what you had been. Lucky, lucky Kudoh. So what the hell are you doing this far away from home?

"Thank you for being here. I must not keep you, however. Doubtless you have business to attend to."

Yohji gave another shrug. "I just wanted to see some of the world. Seems I had a large bank balance so I thought I’d use it to travel."

"Oh." He could think of nothing else to say to that which would not be redundant or jog the memory of the man by his bed. That very blankness was Yohji’s passport to freedom. If he spent too much time around here, he might start to remember, and that would dump him right back into the insanity that those memories would bring with them. Aya couldn’t allow that to happen. "Well, I’m fine now. Thank you for everything." He turned his head away to stare unseeingly at the monitors.

"Listen, if you need anything, clothes bringing in, edible food, I’d be happy to help." 

"No. Thank you. I’m fine." Please, Yohji, just go away before I taint you with my presence. Or worse still, start to cry.

"As long as you’re sure…" There was a wistful note in those few words, but Aya could not give in to emotion and drag the man down to hell again. Let him enjoy his wayward travels in peace. He said nothing and kept his face turned away as something wet ran down his cheek and into the pillow.

He felt, rather than heard, Yohji’s departure. He should have been relieved but the tears refused to stop flowing down his cheeks.

"Stupid, stupid," he said aloud, startling the nurse who had come into the ward to check up on him.

"You’re awake," she echoed Yohji’s words. "Let’s get your pulse taken and your bed straightened. Make you more comfortable."

He winced slightly at her American brashness but permitted her to take his pulse if it pleased her. He was still attached to the instruments and had a drip flowing into his arm when she had finished.

"Do I have to keep all this?" His voice sounded petulant, even to his own ears.

"Until the doctor has seen you, yes. You lost a lot of blood. We need to make up your fluids."

He sighed. "So, how long do I have to stay here?"

"Again, that’s up to the doctor to decide, Mr…..?"

He opened his mouth to say Fujimiya but suddenly Yohji’s words came to mind. 'You were checked in as a John Doe.' Perhaps it should stay that way. "Suzuki." A common enough Japanese name.

"And your er….given name?"

"Ran."

"Thank you. Try to get some rest. There is water on the night-stand and the doctor will be around to see you in the morning." She left in a rustle of starched cotton and he was able to think again.

He quickly came to the conclusion that his first reaction had been the correct one. He was stupid to still…have feelings for a man who had let him down so often. So many times he had almost let himself give into a relationship based on more than just sex, only to have Yohji chase after another woman, or worse, the ghost of his lost love.

He had known that most of the women didn’t matter. They were Yohji’s way of proving to himself that he was still alive inside. But a few of them had mattered, had mattered too much. Asuka, Neu, Michelle, Tsuji Mayumi. And of all of them, the only one who hadn’t been a prize bitch was the first. No wonder Yohji had gone mad with it all.

He remembered a long ago conversation the two of them had had. He had asked Yohji why he never killed their female targets. Even the bitch at Riot had been left to him although Yohji had ignored injury to take out the man and avenge Maki.

"After…Asuka, after that, I always wanted to protect women, you know? Even before then, really. And since she’s been…..gone, I see her face on every woman. How can I kill them when I see her?"

He had shaken his head and sighed. "No, Yohji, not all women are like Asuka. Most of them are prize bitches. Haven’t you learned that yet?" 

Yohji had grinned. "Yeah, but apart from your sister, you don’t like women, Aya. I love them."

"I don’t dislike women, Yohji. I just know what they are capable of." His mother had taught him that lesson. If ever he or Aya-chan had been in trouble, it had been their mother who had punished them, and had appeared to relish the job. "To treat them all as if they were Asuka is to underestimate them. Women are far stronger than you seem to think, Yohji, and capable of as much treachery as men, even if they do wear the face of your lost love."

Of course, he hadn’t been able to convince his sometimes lover of that fact and a month after that Yohji had strangled Neu as she had proclaimed her love for Masafumi with her last breath. He had never been quite the same man again. Every day had seen him descend even further into the madness.

"Stupid, both of us," he whispered the words aloud, not caring if any passing nurses heard. "You, for trying too hard, and me, for being too afraid to try at all."

He toyed with the idea that loving Yohji would have made a difference, then snorted wryly at the very idea. Yohji would have been oblivious and he would have been even more hurt than he was now.

No, allowing himself to love Yohji would have been a huge mistake. So why the hell was he crying again? He wiped the tears away, angry with himself for being so emotional over something that had been over before it ever really began.

* * * * * * *

Yohji stepped into the elevator, his thoughts full of the beautiful man that had been left for dead on the city streets like so much garbage. There was something so painfully familiar about him. And those improbable and incredibly beautiful eyes would not shift out of his mind.

The elevator began its downward journey while Yohji still attempted to remember his past. It was normal behaviour for him, unable as he was to deal with most of his life missing from his memory. Today, though, he was finding concentration especially difficult.

His thoughts returned again and again to those cold, purple eyes. He’d only caught the briefest glimpse of them before the man had turned his head away. After that Ran, or whatever his name was, had kept them half closed, or turned away, constantly and deliberately hidden from view. But something about Yohji noticed little details like eye colour, intentional evasions and acute discomfort. He thought like a hero from a cheap detective novel, or a cop. Perhaps that was what he had been before the accident.

What about that tattoo on his left arm? Why the inverted Christian cross and the word syn? And what were the other words on the design about? When you gonna learn? When who was gonna learn? Him or someone he’d known? What had possessed the man he had once been to choose such a design? He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. So many questions with no damned answers.

Suddenly he was sliding down the elevator wall as a whole barrage of images hit him with painful intensity; narrowed purple eyes glaring at him. Those same eyes filled with pain and tension as they fought each other; ear tails, the colour of blood, spread across a pillow, highlighting a naked, creamy chest; a tall redhead with the same face as the man in the hospital bed, katana in hand, standing over the corpse of a middle-aged man while fire raged around them all; focus and icy strength covering the desperation of a lost….sister. Aya!

Yohji wasn’t sure if he could stand just yet. The images had been so powerful but still so very disjointed. At least he knew now exactly whose katana it was that rested in his case. Aya. So why had the man given him a different name? And what had happened to the crimson hair and the ear tails?

Yohji knew that this Aya held the key to some of his lost memories and he wanted them back, good or bad. He climbed slowly to his feet and stepped out of the elevator when it hit street level. He exited the building and turned to gaze back up at the tall hospital, at a particular floor, at one window. He nodded to himself, his mind made up. 

"I’ll see you tomorrow….Aya."


	3. Memories and Misgivings

A restless night for Aya was followed by a complete nightmare of a morning. Not only was he rudely awakened by an electronic thing being stuck on his finger to measure his pulse and temperature, but then some idiot with a floor polisher kept banging it into his bed. He gave up all pretence of trying to sleep and instead lay helpless and fuming while he waited for the doctor to condescend to see him. 

This gave him plenty of time to worry about the possibility of Yohji coming back before he was out of the hospital and safely hidden away again. The last thing he needed was Yohji remembering his past, just because of him. He had enough guilt on his conscience as it was. 

A man’s tread in the hall made him tense up, but it was simply an orderly with a tray of food for him. He helped Aya into a sitting position before pushing the extendible side table across his lap. "Breakfast. Enjoy." With a cheery wave he was gone again. 

Aya lifted the cover to find a plate of carbonised bacon and eggs scrambled to the consistency of rubber. He grimaced, replaced the cover and pushed the side table away after snagging the coffee. 

Finally, a doctor, reminiscent of Hel, entered his room. She murmured a greeting, read his chart and notes, and checked the monitors before saying anything further. Aya sighed but said nothing. 

"Ah yes, knife wound to the upper abdomen," the doctor said breezily. Aya gritted his teeth especially when she turned to smile brightly, but without any real warmth at him. "Well, you’ll be pleased to know that we can dispense with the drip and monitors." She spotted the untouched breakfast and frowned. "As long as you eat, that is." 

"Give me something edible and I might." 

She ignored that completely and turned off the machines before removing all the little tabs that wired Aya up to them. Then she removed the needle from his arm, covering the crater-sized hole with a dressing. 

"If it bleeds too much, let a nurse know. Well, I think we can let you go by tomorrow, Mr Suzuki." 

"Tomorrow? Why not now?" 

"I want to be certain that there is no secondary infection. Besides, you’ll feel rather weak for the next day or two. Better to do that where you can rest." 

Aya remembered his dreadful morning. "Rest? You have got to be joking! I’d get more rest in an airport!" 

The doctor had the ability, seemingly inherent in her profession, to ignore fractious remarks made by her patients and merely gave him another bright, cold smile before replacing the chart at the end of his bed. 

"I’m leaving today." 

"No, Mr Suzuki, you are not. You will leave when I am certain you will be able to walk more than fifty yards without collapsing. Now rest, and I will see you again tomorrow." 

"No. I want to discharge myself. Now." 

"Mr Suzuki, neither I, nor the hospital, can be held responsible for any relapse, should you discharge yourself." 

"That’s fine." 

"You’ll need someone to bring you some clean clothes. What you were wearing was covered in blood and we had to cut the pants away as they’d stuck to your skin." 

"What? There isn’t anyone who can bring me my clothes. I’m travelling alone." 

"Then I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here until we can arrange for someone to pick some up from your hotel. I assume you are staying at an hotel?" 

Aya nodded morosely. He was stuck in this damned hospital until someone found the time to collect his clothes. And the hotel would have no knowledge of a Mr Suzuki as he was checked in under his own name. On top of all that there was still the nagging thought that Yohji would come back before he could make good his escape. 

The doctor smiled again, this time with a hint of genuine, if rather smug, amusement. "I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Mr Suzuki." 

Aya sighed and lay back on his pillows. The argument had sapped what little strength he had and he felt exhausted. Sleep claimed him finally and for once without nightmares. 

He was woken by the same orderly with a lunch tray. The pot roast was at least edible, if not particularly tasty. He had some ice cream for dessert and felt the strength beginning to return to his muscles. 

Just after lunch was visiting hour and he tensed up again, wondering if Yohji would be back. Then he remembered that he was now a stranger to Yohji and relaxed again. The man had no reason to check up on him just because he’d saved his life. 

Boredom set in and the arrival of the tea tray did very little to alleviate it. Aya decided he might as well sleep through the rest of the evening. He very obviously wouldn’t be able to sleep in the morning. 

He settled himself more comfortably and closed his eyes just as the evening visitors started to arrive. He had just begun to doze off when he realised he was no longer alone. Coming fully awake, he turned his head to see who was there. If it was the damned orderly with another tray, he would throw it at him. He looked up into green eyes and groaned softly. Yohji was standing by his bed. 

* * * * * * * 

After leaving the hospital, Yohji had returned to his hotel and opened his case. There, at the bottom, was a beautiful, though well-used, katana. He lifted it out and gazed at it, trying to remember more of that fire-lit rooftop scene he’d caught a glimpse of in the barrage of memory snippets. Was it the same sword that the redhead in his vision had wielded? And was the redhead really the same man as the one laying in the hospital? He could find no answer in the sheathed blade across his lap, so he replaced it in his case and thought about what he should do. 

A part of Yohji’s mind was convinced that Ran, or Aya, or whatever his name really was, had been hiding something. _He was itching to be rid of me as soon as he saw me and actually focused._ Why? Were they enemies? Somehow Yohji thought not. There had been a flash of something in those cold eyes before Aya/Ran had looked away so very quickly. And he had called out the name Yohji in his sleep before coming to and recognising him as Yohji. 

"So I guess my name might just be Yohji," he said aloud. It seemed comfortable somehow. More his than the name he’d been presented with by his unknown benefactor. 

He locked the case and put it away in the closet before going in search of something to eat, pondering the glimpses of the past he’d had and wondering if he should visit the hospital again. A good meal and a couple of beers later, he had decided that he would indeed be visiting again. He would go in the evening. That should give Aya enough time to regain some strength and feel some security in the idea that he wouldn’t return. Yohji knew, without knowing exactly how he knew, that he would have to keep Aya off balance if he was to learn anything at all. One thing he was absolutely certain of was that he couldn’t continue like this, with his past just one huge, gaping, blank hole. Decision made, Yohji returned to his hotel room to sleep. 

He awoke, sweating in the middle of the night, and realised that he had been dreaming. This was unusual in itself. His subconscious mind seemed to be as blank as his conscious mind most nights. He sat up, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them as he remembered the dream. 

He had been surrounded by flowers but, as he looked more closely at them, they had turned into mocking, female faces. Only one flower, a red rose, had been different. This had turned into a delicate featured male face with high cheekbones and creamy skin. The face of the man in the hospital. It was not mocking him like the female faces were but instead there was a sad expression in a pair of the loveliest eyes Yohji had ever seen. Just as he began to feel comfortable around this flower or face, the other, female flower faces had come between him and the rose, pushing and pulling him further and further away, surrounding and binding him in their stems and tendrils, suffocating him. That had been the point at which he had awoken, sweating and gasping. 

Yohji considered the dream for some time, wondering what, if anything, it was trying to tell him. Then he chuckled softly. It was just a nightmare that was all, strange only because he wasn’t used to dreaming. He guessed he must have dreamt before the accident but since then he hadn’t had a dream that he could remember. 

Until now. 

All he had in his head from his unknown past was those few snippets from the elevator and two names. Aya’s was one and the other was Asuka. That was probably because it had been the name of the cutest of the nurses from his hospital stay. 

He lit a cigarette and sat back against the headboard thinking back to when he had first come to. It had been disorienting, to say the least. He had no idea who he was, what he was or what had happened to him. No visitors had come to see him; nobody seemed to know him. This meant that there was no link at all to his past, nobody to tell him about his childhood or what he did for a living. He took his frustrations out on the hospital staff, reducing more than one nurse to tears. 

Asuka had been stronger than the others and prettier. He smiled down at his cigarette as he remembered her standing, hands on hips, telling him to behave himself as if he were a small child. Gradually they had grown closer and he would possibly have made a life with her if it hadn't been for his mysterious benefactor. 

He had been awake and aware for about a week when he received his one and only visitor, a young man, no more than nineteen or twenty, with dark hair and eyes and a serious demeanour. 

"I am here at the instructions of my employer," he had said, "a powerful man who can pull many strings. He heard about your plight and has arranged for a new identity for you and money to help you until you find your own way in the world." 

At first he had been delighted when the young man had given him the birth certificate, driver’s license, credit cards and bank account of Ito Ryo. Then, after he had thought about it for a while, he became suspicious. Why would such an important man do so much for a complete stranger? Why hadn’t the young man given his or his employers’ names? And why was there so much money in the bank account and such high credit limits on the cards? 

His stubborn nature had taken over then, and instead of marrying Asuka and taking the benefactor’s offered salaryman position, he had left his apartment and Kyoto and gone in search of answers. All he had taken with him was a couple of cases of clothing and the strange, yet somehow familiar, katana. And the credit cards, of course. 

_And fate brings me to the same city as this Aya. I need to know what he knows. It’s time I got my past back._

He extinguished the cigarette and lay back down on his bed to sleep for what remained of the night. 

The day dragged by until the moment he could return to the hospital to confront the man there. He waited most of it out in a café across the street from the hospital, just in case his quarry was discharged. There was no sign of him, however, and when it was time for the evening visits, Yohji took the elevator up to the same floor. There were no flashbacks this time and he moved quietly down the corridor and into the man’s room. Ran/Aya appeared to be sleeping but as soon as Yohji approached the bed he jerked awake and groaned when he spotted him. 

"What do you want?" The words were ground out with a mixture of apprehension and anger. It was hardly the most auspicious of beginnings. 

* * * * * * * 

"I don’t care if he has left the country. I want him found and soon!" The phone was slammed down, making Nagi wince. "Damn it, Yohji, why did you have to take off like that?" 

Nagi glanced up at his companion. "Perhaps he didn’t like that nurse as much as I thought he did." 

"He liked her well enough, Nagi. No, it was my fault. I should have kept some of his money back. All I’ve succeeded in doing is making him suspicious. He wants to know why anyone would bother to do that for him as he doesn’t realise the money is his own. Damn!" He slapped a hand down on his desk, causing the papers on it to jump. 

"You’ve given him a new identity and enough money to build a new life. Why are you so determined to keep him close, Mamoru?" 

"Think about it for a moment. He was an assassin for years. If one of his enemies should recognise him, he’s defenceless. He doesn’t know who he is or what he’s done. In order to keep it that way, to keep him safe, I need to keep tabs on him." 

Privately, Nagi was of the opinion that his employer and lover was a bit of a control freak. Hardly surprising, considering his family background and the position he now held. All Nagi could hope for was that he didn’t turn out to be too much like Reiji. Not that he was as stupid as Reiji had been, but there was still that Takatori trait of wanting to regulate everything personally. 

"If he’s left the country, he’s less likely to run into any enemies," he said soothingly. 

Mamoru stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. "Oh really? Are you trying to tell me that neither Esset nor Rosenkreuz are global organizations?" 

Nagi shook his head. "No, but they’re more likely to search for members of Weiss in Japan than elsewhere." 

Mamoru’s blue eyes stared at him for long moments, making him fidget. Curious how they could be so soft one second and as hard as granite the next. Finally, Mamoru blinked and Nagi let go of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

"You could be right. Just depends where he’s gone. If he’s in Germany, for instance, he could be in real trouble." 

Nagi thought about that for a while before an idea formed. "Does he speak any foreign languages? I mean, does he know enough German to get by there?" 

Mamoru smiled suddenly. "No. He doesn’t speak any German to my knowledge. He used to be able to speak good English. I wonder if he can remember it?" 

"Even if he can’t, it might narrow the search down." 

Mamoru grinned at him and picked up the phone again. "Kawasa? Try searching in English speaking countries and while you’re at it, get Hidaka out of jail." 

Nagi’s eyes widened in surprise. Hidaka was supposed to be in prison for his own good; to stop him from becoming as psychotic as Farfarello had been. Thoughts of his old teammate caused him to wonder if he was still happy with Sally. He supposed that he must be as there had been no reports of a one-eyed psychopath cutting up the local population. 

And what about Hidaka? Was he really ready to set foot in the world again? Nagi could only hope that Mamoru knew the man well enough to make the judgment. Personally, Ken gave him the creeps. He still couldn’t forgive or forget the killing of his surrogate mother, even though it had been explained to him what she’d been doing. 

Mamoru had put the phone back down, this time more gently, and was smiling at him. "Ken speaks English, too. He can join in the search." 

"As long as you’re sure. What about Fujimiya? He’s in America, after all." 

"No. I don’t want him involved at all. Chances are if Yohji-kun were to see him…. No." 

Nagi suddenly realized something. "You don’t want Kudoh to regain his memory at all, do you?" 

* * * * * * * 

Ken left the prison with access to his bank accounts, a ticket to England and instructions to search for Yohji. He glowered slightly at the thought. Why the hell couldn’t Omi leave them all the hell alone? Oops, no, not Omi, Takatori Mamoru. Either way, Ken wasn’t too happy with his assignment. 

Omi had hurt him badly when he’d sent him off to Europe with Yohji. He’d thought the boy had loved him, especially after all they’d been through together. But now he had a new lover and a new identity and Ken was no more than one of his lackeys. A very confused lackey getting on a plane bound for London to search for a man who didn’t even know who any of them were. He had to hope and believe that Takatori Mamoru knew what the hell he was doing.


	4. Meetings

"What do you want?" Aya glared at Yohji, not in the least pleased to see him here. Why couldn’t he just go away and live a life away from killing? 

"Do you mind if I sit down?" 

"I can’t stop you." 

"Thank you……Aya." 

Aya tensed, his eyes widening. Somehow Yohji had remembered the name he still happily went by; the name Yohji had given him. He tried for subterfuge. "Pardon?" 

"I have something of yours, I believe." Yohji’s tone was pleasant enough but the deep green eyes were hard and watchful. "And I ought to warn you now that I’m not leaving here until you fill in some of the gaps for me." 

Aya sighed and pulled himself into a sitting position. Once upright he indicated the chart at the foot of the bed. "You will observe that my name is on the chart." 

"People can lie about names. I believe someone lied to me about mine a few months ago and I’m pretty damned sure that you’re lying to me now. " 

Aya said nothing, contenting himself with a glare and folding his arms across his chest. 

"Okay, let me tell you what I know. You used to have red hair with eartails and you carried a katana. You used it to kill a middle-aged man on a rooftop somewhere. You had, or have, a sister. Does any of that make sense to you?" 

"No." 

Yohji stood up abruptly and started pacing the room. "Stop fucking lying to me! I need to know the truth. I need to know who I am and what I am. And like I said, I’m not leaving here until I get some answers. Let’s start with names. Real names not identities. I believe my name may well be Yohji and yours is definitely not Suzuki Ran." 

The constant pacing was getting to him along with all that Yohji had remembered or worked out for himself. Finally he snapped. "For fuck’s sake sit down, Yohji!" 

Yohji turned and stared at him. "So, it _is_ my name." 

Aya closed his eyes in defeat and nodded. "Yes. You are Kudoh Yohji." He wondered if the name would give rise to more memories returning but all Yohji did was sit down again and frown. 

"Kudoh Yohji? It doesn’t really mean anymore than Ito Ryo does. Well, it seems a bit more familiar but…….This is driving me nuts!" 

Aya shivered slightly. That was precisely what he was trying to avoid. "My name really is Ran although I also go by the name Aya." 

"Suzuki Ran?" 

"No. But that isn’t important. Why are you trying so hard to remember, Yohji?" 

"Because I feel like I’m not a real person anymore. I apparently have no friends, no family, no ties. Nobody cares what I do or where I am. It’s like I’m dead." 

Aya shivered. Officially, they were all dead but that wasn’t something he wanted to tell the man by his bed. He frowned suddenly at something that Yohji had said. "Who lied to you a few months ago?" 

"Some kid came to visit me in the hospital after whatever happened to me. He gave me the Ito identity, documents, bank accounts and so on. At first I was happy, thinking that was really who I was. Then I started noticing the amount of money in the accounts, the credit limits on the cards and wondering why I was worth so much. I figured that I wasn’t Ito Ryo at all and that some mysterious benefactor was going to a lot of trouble for a nobody." 

"What did this kid look like?" 

"He had dark brown hair with bangs over one eye, dark blue eyes, and was around nineteen or twenty. Do you know him?" 

Aya sighed and nodded reluctantly. "His name is Naoe Nagi. He now works for the same man as I do." 

Yohji frowned. "His name doesn’t mean a thing either. Did I work for this man too?" 

"For a short while." 

Yohji stared intently at him, eyes narrowed. "You’re answering all my questions but you’re still telling me nothing. Why?" 

"Because I believe you to be happier now than you were before your memory loss." 

"Why should you care about my happiness?" 

Aya turned away, unable to answer that question without giving far too much away. "We were friends." It was all he could manage to say, all he wanted to give of himself right now. 

Yohji leaned forward. "In one of those flashbacks I saw your hair against a pillow and I don’t think you were sleeping!" 

Aya winced slightly. _Damn you, Yohji, why did you have to remember that?_ "Please, Yohji, stop this. It’ll do you no good to remember." 

"What the hell was I, Aya, that you feel the need to protect me from it?" 

"You were…confused, going slowly insane, terribly unhappy. Do you want all that back?" 

"Was it you that was making me that way?” Yohji’s lips quirked into a slight smile as he asked that question. 

"Perhaps, in part." 

"I imagine you could drive anyone insane. So, what exactly did we do for this mysterious man?" 

Aya just stared at him in consternation. "Yohji…..please, stop doing this to me. All I’m prepared to say is that it was the sort of work that is best forgotten." _Along with your ghosts._

"I see." Yohji was silent for a while, sat back in the chair and staring out into the room. Aya was pretty certain that he wasn’t seeing anything physical. His belief was well founded when Yohji asked his next question. "Were we…..lovers?" 

"Sometimes." There was no point in denying it now that Yohji had remembered him in a bed. 

Yohji nodded, apparently glad to have one question answered. Then he got a suspicious look in his eyes and cocked his head to one side as he stared at Aya. 

"Why was I so confused and unhappy if I had you for a lover?" 

* * * * * * * 

Ken’s trip to London was uneventful and he saw no reason not to check straight into a hotel and get over his jet lag. If Yohji was here, the hunt could wait for the few hours it took him to get some sleep. 

When he awoke he wondered how exactly he was going to go about this. London was a big city and there was nothing to say that Yohji had stayed in the capital. He could be in any of the other large cities in Britain or he could be hidden away in the heart of the country. Or he could be in a totally different country. 

A shower and rather large breakfast later, he was feeling better. He remembered all the places that Yohji had said he would like to see in England and there was a chance that, if he was here and had visited them, someone would remember. Feeling a little less lost, Ken set off for the Tate Gallery, once high on Yohji’s to do list. 

Nobody on the bag search or ticket desk recognised the photo he produced so he entered the gallery hoping that one of the more observant security guards might have seen Yohji. It was a long shot, he knew, and normally he wouldn’t be interested in the art. One picture, however, caught his attention. The redheaded woman in the boat had a look of sadness bordering on despair on her beautiful face. He recognised the look, he had seen it on his team-mates faces often enough. Especially on Yohji’s face once the mask had finally cracked. Why the hell couldn’t he be allowed to stay lost? He took a look at the plaque to find the picture was called ‘The Lady of Shallot’ and was by J W Waterhouse. Deciding he might even buy a print of it, Ken moved on. 

A nasal voice in his head bought him up short. /He’s not here, Kenken. You’re in the wrong country./ _Schuldig! What the hell was he doing here?_

/What am I doing here? Why, looking at the paintings of course. I was wondering what a philistine like yourself was doing here. Now it makes sense./ He stepped out from around a corner and smirked at Ken, although the expression didn’t have its usual malice. 

"I thought you and Crawford were dead." 

"Sorry to disappoint you, Hidaka, but I survived. In fact if it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have to look for Kudoh. He’d be dead." 

"You were the one who got him out of there?" 

Schuldig nodded, the smirk slipping considerably. "I couldn’t find Crawford so I grabbed him instead. Strange how a pre-cog didn’t see his own death." He sighed slightly. "Or perhaps he did." 

"Are you saying he wanted to die?" 

"You’re brighter than I thought. We were all tired, weren’t we? We’d all lost the will to continue. Well, apart from the little Takatori maybe." 

Ken grimaced, pain and hurt still coursing through him at mention of Omi. Then he remembered the important part of what Schuldig had told him. "You say Yohji’s not in England at all?" 

Schuldig sighed dramatically. "Pay attention, Hidaka. That’s precisely what I said. I don’t know where he is, however, before you ask." 

"Damn!" 

"So tell me, why is the little one so keen to find him?" 

"So that he doesn’t bump into people like you!" 

Schuldig nodded. "Makes sense. He’s likely to greet me like a long lost buddy, if he recognises me at all that is. You do know he lost his memory?" The hard blue eyes rested on him and Ken felt uncomfortable under their cold regard. 

"Well, nice meeting you and all that shit, but I’ve gotta go." Ken turned away, searching for an exit sign. He would have to contact Omi, no, damnit, Mamoru, and let him know that England was clear. A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him back. 

"No, wait…" 

Ken frowned up at Schuldig. "What the hell do you want?" 

Schuldig frowned in confusion. "I’m not entirely sure," he drawled, but there was an underlying hint of something else, something desperate. "A friend, perhaps." He laughed without mirth. "But I guess I picked the wrong person, right?" 

Ken stared at his one time enemy. Something about the expression on Schuldig’s face gave him pause, reminded him of the girl in the painting. Ken wondered if that lost look was mirrored in his own eyes. Weiss, Schwarz, they’d all seen far too much for comfort. "Do you want to go for a beer?" Now why the hell had he asked that? 

Shuldig’s blue eyes widened in surprise. "A beer would be good." 

"You can be surprised then?" Ken felt himself grin at the scored point. 

"So it would seem." Schuldig shrugged indifferently. 

They left the gallery together, after Ken bought his print. Schuldig raised an eyebrow at his choice but said nothing until they were outside the imposing building and heading for the nearest pub. "That’s an odd choice for you. I had you marked down as more of a Turner or Stubbs lover. More testosterone involved." 

Ken shrugged. "It was the expression on her face. It struck a chord somehow." 

"Ah." Luckily, Schuldig said no more until they were seated with a pint of beer apiece. 

"How do you know Yohji isn’t in Britain?" Ken asked, more to break the silence between them than any real desire to know. 

Schuldig leaned back in his seat. "Each mind has its own signature, its own taste if you like. Normally I’m too busy trying to blank the noise out to get the taste or signature of individual minds." He sighed slightly. "But, over the past few years, I’ve got to know the unique signatures in the minds of Weiss. I actively search them out, which is why I knew you were at the Tate." 

"Why would you want to search for our signatures?" Ken was confused. They were on opposing sides, enemies. Why would Schuldig seek them out? 

"Until today so as to avoid you, of course. As you just thought, we were enemies. Possibly still are." He shrugged. "I just don’t know anymore." 

Ken was fascinated, despite his misgivings about the man in front of him. "So, what are our minds like?" 

"I don’t know how much sense this will make but I’ll try and describe it in terms of taste. Your friend Kudoh has a mind like rich, dark cherries or blueberries. The little Takatori is an odd mix of honey and hard nut brittle. Yours is spicy, cinnamon or nutmeg, perhaps." 

"And Aya’s?" 

"Oh yes, Fujimiya. Don’t let the exterior fool you. His mind is like vanilla flavoured coffee. Strong and yet sweet." 

Ken thought about this for a moment or two. The flavours Schuldig had described did make a kind of sense. "Okay, so what about Schwarz? What were their minds like?" 

Schuldig smirked slightly. "Crawford’s was like pure ice, no flavour, just cold. Nagi is like a good curry or Cajun cuisine, hot but with other flavours coming through the heat. Very complex. I don’t delve too deeply into Farfarello’s mind. Best I can do for him is chilli, all heat." 

Ken nodded. Again they seemed like good similes to him. But what did he know? He took a long swallow of his beer before glancing across at Schuldig again. Little details about his appearance began to impinge on Ken’s mind, the tiny lines of fatigue around the cold, blue eyes, the lank appearance of the usually silky hair, the slump of the shoulders. He realised abruptly that the man opposite was at the end of his tether. No wonder he seemed to need a friend so desperately. "Why me?" 

"Because you’re honest and perhaps less inclined to take my head off than Fujimiya." 

Had Ken asked that out loud or had the telepath pulled it from his thoughts? He frowned across the table. 

"You spoke aloud but I was following your thought processes." 

"You believe you’re in danger don’t you?" It was a quantum leap compared to Ken’s normal thinking and he wondered if he had offended Schuldig. It came as quite a surprise when the German merely nodded his agreement. 

"Very good, Kenken." His old, sarcastic tones were back but his eyes were wary. 

Ken glanced around quickly. Nobody was sitting too close to them so he lowered his voice. "Destroying Epitaph wasn’t enough, was it?" 

"It was a huge step in the right direction. It slowed Rosenkreuz’s recruitment down considerably. But they’re like a malignant cancer, cut out one tumour and another grows elsewhere." 

"But don’t you work for them?" This conversation had to be one of the most confusing that Ken had ever experienced in his whole life. 

Schuldig shook his head emphatically before leaning forward to speak close to Ken’s ear. "We fought the Esset elders in order to free ourselves, attacking you in the process in case you sought to steal that freedom from us. We had no idea of what we had set in motion. Crawford and I were trained by Rosenkreuz, yes, but we had no idea that they were the power behind Esset. We believed it was the other way around, to our cost. They silenced us, Hidaka! Crawford couldn’t see and I couldn’t hear when we were anywhere near them. We had trained Nagi so we sent him to Takatori Mamoru. He, at least, is free of their taint." 

Ken winced at mention of Nagi’s name. The boy that had supplanted him in Omi’s affections. No. He had to remember that there was no Omi anymore. 

He turned his thoughts to what Schuldig had just told him. No wonder Kritiker was so desperate to find Yohji. Without his memory he could be a danger to both himself and others. 

Schuldig seemed to have been following his thoughts again as he smiled suddenly. "The one good thing is that Kudoh’s memory is slowly returning." 

Ken stared at him blankly. "Good thing? He was a mess." 

"He’d be even more of a mess if Rosenkreuz got hold of him." Schuldig finished his beer and peered at Ken over the rim of his still raised glass. "Luckily, he found the right kitten." 

That had to mean Aya, Ken realised. So Yohji was in New York. Something else he could report back, though he wasn’t sure how angry Mamoru would be about it. "How do you know all this?" 

Schuldig sighed quietly. "If I don’t make a conscious effort to block them out, I can hear the thoughts of the whole damned world, all at once. Cacophony. I would go insane if I listened. With such a curse, you think distance is important?" He gazed at the frosted glass window for a moment before turning back to look Ken steadily in the eye. "I want to make a deal." 

* * * * * * * 

Mamoru sat staring at the phone, almost trying to will it to ring. All the agents that had reported back so far had no news of Yohji. It was as if the man had vanished off the face of the earth. He sighed softly and glanced at the photograph on his desk. They were his family. He couldn’t abandon any one of them, even if Nagi was convinced that he was a control freak. 

The phone shrilled, startling him even though he had waited for it to ring. He snatched the receiver up, knocking the photograph flat in his haste. "Persia here." 

He listened to the voice on the other end for some considerable time, his face showing no emotion at all, although the news he was getting was making his heart thump and his head spin. Finally he frowned. 

"Thank you, Ken. Stay where you are for the time being. I need to think about the offer of a deal and will get back to you on that. Goodnight." He slammed down the receiver and calmed himself just enough to prevent the phone from being tossed through the window. 

Damn it all to hell! Could it even get any worse? Yohji was with Aya and regaining his memory and now the man he still held responsible for his cousin’s death was offering to cut a deal. The phone rang again. 

"Persia!" Again he listened. 

"What?… How long?…. Have the hospitals been checked?… I see….Yes, thank you." 

Nagi entered the office just in time to float the hurtling telephone back to its place on the desk. "Bad news?" 

"Ken has been told that Yohji is with Aya in New York only that’s impossible because Aya has vanished!" 

"How did Ken find out about Yohji being in New York?" 

"Schuldig told him." Mamoru knew his voice was hard when he said the telepath’s name, but he had reason for his hatred. 

"If Schu says they’re in New York, that’s where they are." Nagi’s voice was both reasonable and full of conviction. Mamoru glanced at him, his eyes hard. 

"But that would mean that Aya-kun was hiding from me. Why would he do that?" _To protect Yohji, of course._ Although that didn’t explain his still being checked in at the hotel. 

"Why don’t you want Kudoh with his memory intact?" 

Nagi’s quiet question made him snap out of his short reverie. "Why? Simply because he was going insane with it all. He even attacked Aya-kun." 

"I know, I was there. And yet it was Fujimiya that you least wanted him to find. Was it because they were close or because you thought they might try to kill each other again?" 

Mamoru sighed and raised a hand to his throbbing head. "Both probably." He gazed thoughtfully at Nagi. 

"You worked with Schuldig, know the man. I…I have good reason to neither like nor trust him, but his help would be invaluable. He wants to make a deal with me. Can I trust him?" 

Nagi looked faintly surprised but answered very readily. "If he is offering to make a deal, you can trust it. Despite his devil may care attitude, he doesn’t make deals lightly." 

"I wouldn’t be able to face him. There is too much bitterness there, Nagi-kun. I would need you to liaise with him. Or better still, find some way for him to be of use away from Japan." He could feel his shoulders tensing as the memories flooded back. Suddenly invisible hands were there, easing the muscles. He smiled at his lover. "Thank you, Nagi-kun." 

"Distance is no object for Schu. You wouldn’t have to meet if you didn’t want to." Nagi’s eyes were worried. 

"He’s desperate, isn’t he?" Mamoru suddenly realised that Schuldig had no-one and nothing anymore except some very powerful enemies. "If I refuse him it could mean his death." 

"You say that as if it were the desirable option." 

"Perhaps it is." 

The invisible hands ceased their ministrations and Nagi was staring at him as if he were a stranger. "Then what makes you any better than him?" 

Mamoru sighed. "You’re right, Nagi-kun. I cannot descend to petty vengeance when there is so much at stake. I could not do so anyway." He looked deep into the other’s eyes. "I want you to make me a promise. I want you to do all you can to prevent me becoming corrupted by all this power." The rare smile that lit up Nagi’s face was breathtaking to him. 

"I promise." 

The very real arms around his neck and the kiss pressed against his mouth was even more breathtaking and Mamoru finally relaxed just a little.


	5. Answers

"Damn it all to hell!" Ken dropped the receiver back into the cradle and ran a hand through his hair. He never had been able to do anything right. Now he was in trouble with Takatori Mamoru just for passing on information to him. And the way he’d been dumped still hurt like hell. All in all, he felt angry and frustrated. 

Schuldig sat quietly, watching him. "I take it that didn’t go down too well." 

"He’s gonna get back to me about your deal. It’s the fact that Yohji’s with Aya that’s got him spitting tacks. He thinks Aya will bring Yohji’s memory back." Ken suddenly realised he was saying too much to someone who had not yet been cleared by his leader. "Oh hell!" 

Schuldig smirked at him, though in amusement rather than malice. "You might be a good assassin, Hidaka, but you’d make a lousy spy. You’re too open for your own good." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He had brought Schuldig to his hotel room rather than take up the man’s offer of going to his apartment. He could always change hotels if Mamoru refused to deal with Schuldig while the telepath would find it harder to move apartments. Who said he couldn’t think things through? But it was true, he never had been good at the undercover work they’d had to do. Aya or Yohji had usually taken that on as every emotion showed on Ken’s face and his temper tended to snap when seeing injustices done before his very eyes. 

"You’re deep in thought, there." 

Ken started and grinned. "You mean you weren’t following them right along with me?" 

Schuldig gave him a leisurely bird. "Not everything you think about interests me. But I don’t know if Kudoh will regain all his memories." 

"I thought amnesia was usually a temporary condition?" 

"Yes, if caused by head trauma. It can last anything from a few seconds to a few months. Then the memories usually start to return except those pertaining to the actual trauma." 

"So in a few months, Yohji should be able to remember everything except the building collapsing on him?" 

"No. If the building collapse had been the only cause, Kudoh would be suffering from retrograde amnesia and would probably have recovered everything by now. But that wasn’t the only cause." 

Ken stared. What the hell did Schuldig know? "What did cause it?" 

"I’m not entirely sure, but if I’m right, Kudoh’s brain was tampered with." 

This was just getting too spooky for words. But, if it were true, how much did Mamoru know? 

Schuldig seemed to have been following his thoughts this time as he nodded. "Ask yourself this question, Hidaka. If Takatori Mamoru thought Kudoh was going to recover, why did he present him with a fake identity and a way out of the profession? If you’re allowed to contact Fujimiya, tell him to check out the files. He’s almost as good a hacker as Nagi or Takatori himself. He should be able to find out how much Kritiker knows." 

"Wait a minute! How do you know that Om….Mamoru set up a fake identity for Yohji?" 

"Nagi and I still stay in touch from time to time. And Nagi was the messenger at the hospital. Kid wasn’t very happy about it either." 

"So Yohji’s never gonna remember?" 

"It’s not that bad. What you have to bear in mind about both Esset and Rosenkreuz is that they have no use for emotions, except in twisting them to suit their own purposes. I believe that the tampering was done by tapping into Kudoh’s emotions and using them against him. Now the interesting thing about Kudoh is that his strongest emotions were hidden even from himself. In other words, those were not used against him." 

"You’re talking about Aya, aren’t you?" 

"Very good, Hidaka, very, very good! You’re not nearly as dumb as I thought you were." 

Ken reddened slightly at the insult then shrugged. He’d known that Aya and Yohji were lovers. It had become especially obvious during those months in the trailer. And when Aya had been so badly wounded by Shion, Yohji had been desperate to save him at any cost. "There were signs." 

"But both of them refused to face the fact that it had gone deeper than convenience at a guess." 

Ken nodded absently, his mind still going over that last, dreadful mission and the things that had been said. "It started to fall apart when Yohji and I were sent to Europe. Yohji actually slept with the target. She was an Esset agent and he started asking if she might be right and us wrong. When we went back to Japan he was seeing the ghost of his lost partner everywhere. That’s when he started going really crazy." 

"Well, from what little I know, Kudoh is suffering from a form of post-hypnotic amnesia. This is both good and bad news. Which do you want first?" 

Ken chuckled, though with little mirth. "Let’s get the bad news out of the way first." 

"Balinese will never get all of it back. Some of it is gone forever. The good news is that it’s the memories that were used against him that probably won’t be recovered. So, he shouldn’t be insane if he remembers." 

Ken decided at that point that Mamoru, or whoever the hell he thought he was now, would be crazy to turn down Schuldig’s offer of a deal. The man was useful to have around, far too useful to let go of. 

* * * * * * * 

"Why was I so confused if I had you for a lover?" It didn’t make any sense to Yohji at all. The man in the hospital bed was absolutely stunning. Well, the odd pinkish-brown hair was all wrong; it should be a rich blood red. But the delicate features of his face and those incredibly beautiful eyes were just mind-blowing. Yohji was fairly certain that if they had been lovers, no matter how seldom, he would have been the happiest man on earth. 

"There were other issues." Aya’s deep voice was hesitant, as he obviously thought through his responses. 

"Such as?" Yohji was not going to give up on this. He wanted his life back, good and bad. The long-suffering sigh was a fair indication that he was getting through to Aya. He waited, hopeful that his question would be answered. Instead the bastard completely changed the subject. 

"Can you do me a favour? You did make the offer, so I wondered….." 

Yohji’s first reaction was one of anger. Why should he do the little snot any favours when Aya was refusing to tell him anything useful? He sat back in the chair and dug his hands in his pockets. "Fuck you." 

There was a faint smile in response to that. "It would mean you knowing my real name, all of my real name." The offer was made grudgingly and with an irritated sigh but it was one that Yohji could not refuse. 

"What do you want?" 

"I need you to go to my hotel and get me some clean clothes so I can leave here tomorrow. You’re the only person I can ask." 

"And you’re checked in at the hotel under a name other than Suzuki Ran." Aya nodded. "What name?" 

"Fu….Fujimiya." It was said hesitantly. 

Yohji’s whole world seemed to tilt slightly to the left and he gasped. Fujimiya Aya, Abyssinian. And he, he had been Balinese. He stared at Aya. 

"Code names." 

"Pardon?" 

"We had code names. You were Abyssinian, I was Balinese. What was that all about?" 

"I’m checked in at the Red Roof Inn on West Thirty-Second Street." Aya continued as if he hadn’t even heard the question. Then he turned those impossibly lovely eyes on Yohji, their violet depths full of pain. "Weiss." 

Weiss. The word had been said in no more than a whisper, but it rang a whole clarion call of bells in Yohji’s mind. He would need time to process the information his brain was finally beginning to retrieve. "When do you want your clothes?" 

"If you could manage to get them here by tomorrow morning…" 

"Are you sure you’re up to leaving the hospital?" 

"Yohji." Oh yes. He remembered _that_ Arctic tone. 

"Okay, I’ll bring your damned clothes, on one condition. That you tell me everything that I can’t figure out for myself. If you won’t, then you can explain to the hospital why you gave them a false name. Or stay here and rot." 

"Okay. But not here. Bring the clothes and I’ll tell you what I can." 

Yohji knew that was all he would get out of the man for now. He still wasn’t sure how he knew just how far he could push Aya, but something was telling him that this was it. He nodded his agreement and stood up. "You got a key card or something?" 

Aya nodded and reached into the drawer in the stand by his bed. He produced a card and handed it over. "Room number six one two, on the sixth floor." 

"Then we talk." Yohji was adamant on that point and was pleased to see Aya nod even if it was reluctantly. 

"Then we talk." 

* * * * * * * 

The doctor’s expression told Aya that she wasn’t exactly happy to see the neat pile of clothes by his bed but, having examined him, she professed herself happy enough with his condition to discharge him. "You are a remarkably quick healer, Mr Suzuki. But don’t push things over the next few days. You’ve had a very lucky escape." 

"Don’t worry, doctor, I’ll make sure he rests up." Aya almost snarled at the irritating, smug cheerfulness of Yohji’s tone. It was a wonder he wasn’t trying to flirt with the damned woman. 

And that immediately made him remember his promised talk with Kudoh. Obviously seeing him and then asking his questions had unlocked some of his missing memories. How long would it be before Asuka, Neu and all the others came back to haunt him? He sighed quietly before he realised the doctor was giving Yohji instructions on his convalescence. It was time to put the woman straight. 

"I’ll be taking care of myself." Two pairs of eyes turned incredulous gazes on him before Kudoh and the doctor resumed their conversation as if he hadn’t even spoken. Aya’s fists clenched in frustration. "I said…." 

"Out of the question," the doctor said with finality. "You need to take things much easier than you realise. Mr Kudoh has offered you his assistance and I suggest you either accept it or you stay here." Gods, how he hated that woman. 

Finally done with her instructions to Yohji, the doctor left them to it. Aya glared at Yohji and began hauling himself out of the bed. Damnit, he was as weak as a kitten. Yohji took an involuntary step forward, only to come to a halt when Aya shot him a glare. "I can do this myself." His head spun and the floor tilted dangerously but still he struggled, his will stronger than his body. 

Suddenly, Yohji was there, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. "Sit down before you fall down." 

"I said I can manage." 

"Sure you can. Damnit, Aya, if you really want out of here, let me help you." 

Reluctantly, Aya allowed himself to be eased into a sitting position on the bed. The world stopped spinning so wildly, at least. 

Yohji removed the hospital gown, causing him to blush and lower his eyes and glare at the floor. He just knew that, if he looked up, he would see that insufferable smirk on Yohji’s lips. 

"Can you lift your arms a bit?" Yohji’s voice sounded serious enough so Aya risked a quick glance. He was standing a little to the side, holding a silver-grey cashmere sweater in his hands, no sign of a smirk on his face. Aya hned softly and obediently raised his arms. Yohji slipped the soft material over his head and gently eased his arms into the sleeves. 

"Thank you." The words were reluctant but Aya had the sense to realise that he needed the help. Yohji didn’t respond, merely handed him his briefs. Aya shook his head slightly. This was so humiliating. "Could you ease them up as far as my knees. I don’t think I can bend that far as yet." 

Yohji nodded and squatted down to ease the black, silky briefs over Aya’s feet and draw them up his calves. Then, he turned his back as Aya painfully got them the rest of the way up his legs and over his hips. By the time he was finished he had broken into a sweat and was gasping for breath. 

Yohji repeated the procedure with his pants but this time he supported Aya as he stood up to pull them up and fasten them. 

"Well, your coat should be a breeze after all that. Why were your credit cards and other ID at the hotel, by the way?" 

"I’d only gone out for a walk. I just needed to think." 

Yohji nodded. In times past, Aya would have assumed that Yohji knew his old habit of walking the streets when trying to clear his head. Now he didn’t know how much the man remembered. 

"So. Where are we going for this talk? Your hotel room, or mine?" 

"With how weak I feel, I suppose mine would be the obvious choice." 

Yohji shrugged. "Okay. I guess your katana will have to wait then." 

Aya stared at him in shock. That was the something of his that Yohji had? "You’ve been carrying it around with you?" 

"What else was I supposed to do? Until two days ago, I didn’t even know who’s it was and I wasn’t about to leave it in Japan for my ‘benefactor’ to find." 

"Hn. It can wait." 

"Shall we go?" Yohji held Aya’s coat for him to ease into. It took most of his strength and he didn’t argue the strong hand that supported him as they left the room. 

A short cab ride later they were in Aya’s room at the Red Roof Inn. He collapsed, thankfully onto the queen-sized bed and glanced up at Yohji. He sighed. "I suppose you want that talk now." 

"Hell, yeah. Looking forward to it." Yohji sat down in the room’s only chair. 

"What exactly have you remembered?" 

"All the stuff I told you last night. That you have a sister, that you killed some middle-aged man on a burning rooftop with that sword and that we slept together on at least one occasion. There was something vague about us fighting as well, but I couldn’t make that out too well. Then, when you told me your real name I remembered Abyssinian and Balinese." 

"And when I mentioned Weiss?" 

"Oh yeah. That was a real eye-opener. We were a group of four although the other code names haven’t returned as yet, and we were… vigilantes?" 

Aya sighed. "We thought of it as justice, but yes, we were assassins. That was what I didn’t want you to remember." 

Yohji shook his head, his eyes serious. "That bit doesn’t really bother me as much as it should. What bothers me is you and this ‘benefactor’ trying to keep it from me. Why would you do that?" 

"Because it was making you so unhappy. When we had that fight that you mentioned, you told me you wanted to forget, that you wanted a new life, a rebirth. When I saw you again I tried to honour that wish. You were tired, Yohji, sad and tired. We all were, but you were taking it hardest." 

"Who is this mysterious man who can pull strings enough to provide me with a new identity. You knew his lackey, so you must know him." 

"We both do. He was one of the four members of Weiss. You knew him as Tsukiyono Omi, although that’s not the name he goes by now." No, now Omi was just another damned Takatori. 

Yohji ran a hand through hair that was beginning to grow out again, beginning to lose the obviously false yellow tint. "Omitchi? He’s become…..wait a minute. Wasn’t he related to the man you killed in some way?" 

"Yes." 

Yohji stood up and wandered over to the complimentary coffee maker in the corner of the room. "May I?" 

Aya nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "It’s not very good coffee." 

"As long as its caffeine, I’ll manage. So Omi now has a lot of power? How’s he doing with it?" 

"I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him for some months." Just as well, really. "Do you remember the fourth member?" 

"Kenken? Sure. Well, I can see a face, at least." Yohji’s hands were still busy with the coffee maker but he glanced over his shoulder with a grin on his face. "Sports nut?" 

Aya nodded. "Soccer. He went to prison voluntarily rather than kill again." 

Yohji retrieved his coffee from the reluctant machine and sat back down with it. He shook his head. "This is so frustrating. I’m getting tiny snippets and the occasional name but it’s like having odd pieces of a jigsaw. I can’t make out the whole picture. You’re the biggest chunk I have. I still want to know why I was unhappy if I had you." 

Aya was saved from answering that rather awkward question by his cell-phone ringing. He reached for it and hit the answer button. 

"Aya? Thank fuck for that! Where are you?" 

"Ken? I could ask you the same question." 

"Never mind that now. Is Yohji with you?" 

Aya frowned. "Yes, why?" 

"Shit! Mamoru is not a happy bunny about that. And then he heard you’d gone missing and became totally unbearable." 

"I was in a hospital. Some kid stabbed me in the gut. And tell Takatori Junior that Yohji saved my life!" A sudden exclamation came from across the room. Yohji was staring at him, his eyes wide. 

"He wants to know if Yohji remembers anything." 

"Yes." 

"Oh fuck. He’s gonna give me real earache now! Maybe you should contact him instead." 

Aya grimaced. "Not unless I absolutely have to." 

"Listen, Aya, have you got access to a computer?" 

"Yes, why?" 

"It might be an idea to see how much Kritiker has on Yohji’s files. I’ve been told his mind was tampered with." 

"I suspected it might have been. If you want to know if Takatori knows, then yes, of course. Why else go to the trouble of a new identity?" 

There was a pained silence from the other end. Ken was digesting that news rather badly. "Shit." A sigh. "I thought I knew him, you know?" 

"I know." There was nothing else that Aya could say to that. 

"Listen, I’ve got to go. This call is costing a fortune. Where the hell are you?" 

"My hotel in New York. You?" 

"London. Playing hunt the Yohji. I found Schuldig instead." Ken cut the connection at that point leaving Aya staring at his phone in disbelief. _Schuldig? I thought he was dead._

"Takatori." Yohji’s voice was thoughtful. "The name of the man on the roof and Omi’s real name, right?" 

Aya nodded, wondering what was coming next. 

"Explains the power bit. What was that about the identity he gave me?" 

"Ken’s just figured out that Takatori Mamoru - Omi - knew more about your amnesia than he let on." 

Yohji shrugged. "It’s coming back, bit by tiny fucking bit, but it’s coming." 

"Chances are that it won’t all come back." 

"Why the hell not?" 

Aya winced slightly at the anger in Yohji’s voice. Time to see exactly how much Omi did know. "Can you do something for me? In the closet, on top of my suitcase, there’s a laptop. Could you get it for me, please. I think it’s time we both found out exactly what happened to you." 

Yohji got the requested laptop but frowned slightly. "We know what happened to me. I had some sort of head wound and lost my memory." 

Aya shook his head as he set the machine up. "There’s more to it than that. Head trauma amnesiacs start remembering things long before this. Some of your memory was deliberately wiped." 

* * * * * * * 

Nagi opened the door without using his power and lifted the tray of refreshments from the table to his right. Mamoru’s political meeting seemed to be going well but he wasn’t sure how his lover would take the news that Hidaka had just reported to him. It seemed to Nagi that, if Kudoh could retrieve some of his memory, it would keep the man a lot safer than setting up a new identity and providing him with an unwanted wife and job would. 

He set the tray down and poured drinks for those present before quietly leaving the room and returning to his desk. He sat there, staring at the wall, while he thought things through. 

If Schu wanted to cut a deal that meant there was trouble brewing and he no longer felt safe alone. Now, more than ever, Nagi found himself missing Crawford’s talent. It was like being blind not having the pre cog’s visions to rely on. But something nasty was stirring, he was sure of it. 

He must have been thinking for quite a long time as he felt Mamoru’s hands on his shoulders. That meant they were alone. 

"Any news?" 

Nagi sighed. "There is good news and bad. The good is that Fujimiya is safe and at his hotel, the bad is that Kudoh is with him and regaining his memory." 

"Did Ken-kun say how Yohji-kun was?" 

"Not in so many words but he did ask me to tell you that Fujimiya seems okay with it so far. Does that mean something?" He watched as some of the tension seeped out of Mamoru. 

"I think so. I think it means that he hasn’t remembered Asuka. I’ve made a decision about Schuldig. I’m prepared to make a deal with him. There’s something bigger than Yohji’s memory going on and we need to know what it is." 

Nagi nodded. _You, too? Whatever this is has to be momentous for a mundane to feel it._ "I think you’re right." 

* * * * * * * 

He groaned in agony, his head filled with pain and blinding white light. It would have been more merciful if they’d killed him rather than suppressing his talent in this way. 

There was the vague sound of somebody’s footsteps approaching and then a low laugh. "You weren’t so damned clever this time, were you? Don’t worry, Herr Crawford, once we’ve retrieved our experiment, the telepath and the telekinetic and reprogrammed the four of you, you won’t feel anymore pain." 

He knew the voice only too well. Hans Dietmeiller also known as The Mind Bender. Esset and Rosenkreuz agents had another name for him. They called him the Brain Butcher. 

The footsteps retreated and he was left alone again. All he could do was hope. _Schu, please, don’t do anything stupid._ He grinned to himself, not sure if he was finally succumbing to insanity. There was no point in repeating that thought over and over again. Schuldig couldn’t hear him anymore.


	6. Machinations

"Some of your memory was deliberately wiped." 

Yohji stared, unable to take in the full import of what Aya had said. "Wiped? What the fuck do you mean, wiped?" 

Aya glanced up from whatever programme it was that he was running on his laptop, his eyes sympathetic. The softened expression made Yohji almost gasp aloud at the beauty of the man but, right now, he wanted to know what the hell was going on and who had been tampering with his head. A flash of red-gold hair and a mocking smirk ran through his head. He shook his head, not knowing who the man had been. 

"Yohji, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?" Yohji gave a slight start and came out of his reverie. 

"Sorry. I just had a flash of someone else. Don’t know who he was though. What have you found?" 

Aya indicated the screen. "Looks like Omi also either knew or suspected that your mind had been tampered with in some way. He seems to think that the people responsible might have some use for you and is trying to keep you safe. Sounds very like him." 

"That would explain a false identity and job offer. He’d be able to keep an eye on me." He hadn’t meant for his voice to be so bitter. This wasn’t Aya’s fault after all. 

Aya shrugged and tapped in some code. "There’s also the fact that without memory of what you were, you became a liability." 

"Apparently, I was a fucking liability either way." Had he always been so bitter? Was this why everyone preferred it if he stayed oblivious? 

Aya glanced up, his reading glasses sliding down his nose. He looked so fuckable. A whole barrage of images came from that thought. The memory that he’d always thought those glasses on Aya’s nose so sexy. And the contrasting vision of an efficient killer. "Which one is the real you, the warrior or the scholar?" 

"Both." There was no pride in the way Aya said the word, merely truth, and acclimatisation to the fact. It was the attitude of a man who’d come to terms with himself. 

Something in Yohji responded to that and presented him with several images of a cold, uptight youth with those outrageous, blood-red eartails. "Did you dye your hair?" That earned him the glimmerings of a smile. 

"Yes. It was considered expedient at the time." 

"So is that why I have to grow out this revolting daffodil yellow?" 

"I have no idea what possessed you to do that to yourself." A faint trace of the smile lingered on Aya’s face as he said that and his eyes were full of amusement. 

Yohji grimaced. "It’s faded a bit," he muttered. "So, why haven’t you answered my question?" 

Aya’s eyes immediately went wary. "Which one?" 

"The one about us being lovers." Yohji watched with quiet amusement as Aya blushed. He was pretty certain it wasn’t that common an occurrence. 

"Yes, we were…lovers. Sometimes. A long time ago. When we needed comfort. That was all it was." Aya wouldn’t meet his eyes as he spoke and his long fingers were nervously pleating the sheet. 

Yohji suppressed the urge to call him a liar. After all, he wasn’t even sure if he was lying. No, he knew somehow that there was more to it. He sighed softly. "Did I hurt you?" 

"I…no…yes. Why are you asking me that? It finished a long time ago." 

Yohji wanted to punch the wall in frustration. "Aya, I’ve remembered that I was a fucking killer without falling apart at the seams too badly. Why would our relationship have you running scared?" 

"It. Was. Not. A. Relationship." 

"Oh? What the hell was it then?" 

"I told you. A comfort thing. Dealing with bodily needs. That’s all it was." 

"Or all you wanted it to be? I remember you being an uptight little prick. Cold. Aloof. So I guess I was something you just picked up and discarded at need. Is that it?" 

"Something like that." 

Yohji leaned closer to the bed and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing Aya flinch back, away from him. "Then what are you so afraid of?" 

"Getting hurt, hurting you, I don’t think it was such a good idea. Anyway, you always preferred your women." There was no disguising the very real pain in Aya’s eyes. 

Yohji pulled back and ran a hand through his hair. "So I did hurt you?" 

Aya shrugged. "You couldn’t help your nature. You loved women." 

The constant references to women were beginning to confuse Yohji. He simply couldn’t imagine himself choosing a woman over the beautiful, exotic creature on the bed. And, since he’d come to in a hospital, he had a wary, suspicious view of them. Only Asuka had been able to get through and she, he regarded as a friendly nurse, no more than that. If only this infuriatingly reticent man would tell him more. "I must have changed a lot then. I don’t much like women, Aya. I don’t trust them." 

Aya gave him a sharp glance over his glasses before returning to his computer search. 

Yohji sat back down and swallowed the last of the rather vile coffee before simply studying the man. Eventually Aya looked up and frowned. "What?" 

"Nothing. I guess I’m trying to match what I have in my head to what I’m seeing now. Only your eyes seem to be the same." 

"Things change." 

"People too, it seems." Yohji sighed. "I’m going outside for a smoke." 

"Some things obviously don’t change. You don’t need to go outside, this is a smoking room." 

Yohji frowned at that. "You? In a smoking room?" 

Aya shrugged. "All they had left when I checked in. Besides, I feel the occasional urge for the smell of a cigarette." 

Yohji lit his smoke and sat back in the chair after snagging the ashtray from the night stand. He blew smoke rings and gazed into the distance, trying to force his mind to remember. 

"Don’t force it. You’ll give yourself a headache." 

"Why should you care? The only feeling I’ve got from you is the strong desire to be rid of me!" 

"Bit late for that now." Aya switched off the laptop and sat back against the pillows. He seemed preoccupied and whatever was going through his mind didn’t appear to be giving him any joy. 

"Listen, I’m sorry if I fucked up some grand master plan by saving your hide and regaining some of my memories, but I have a say in my life too, you know." 

"Yes, you’re right. Ask your questions, Yohji. I’ll answer as best I can." 

"Why did we split up?" Yohji kept worrying at that but he knew he had to try and get back to what they might once have had. 

"I almost got you killed. Myself too. It wasn’t good for us to be so…attached. Then Omi became heir to his grandfather and we both felt it would be expedient to split up Weiss. You and Ken were sent to Europe on a mission and I stayed to train your replacements." 

"Did either of you think to ask Ken and I what we thought?" 

"No. It was for the best, Yohji." 

"Best for whom, Aya? You or me?" 

"Both of us. Do…do you remember your mission in Europe?" 

"No. Its a blank." Which really was upsetting Yohji. He needed to know what it was that he’d done to have Aya distance himself by half a world. "I must have been a real shit to make you send me that far away." 

"Yes and no. I was probably as bad." 

"The guy on the roof, Takatori? Why did you kill him?" 

"He was responsible for killing my parents and the coma my sister was in at the time." 

That didn’t really mean much to Yohji either. Yet he knew he’d been there, helped to kill the man. They all had. "Why did we help?" 

"Weiss was put together by Omi’s father, Takatori Shuichi. He deliberately chose those with a reason to hate his brother. You knew him as Persia." 

Persia! A whole series of new images hit Yohji. A TV screen with a figure in silhouette, some stupid phrase about denying dark beasts their tomorrows. A bearded man with Omi crying over him in an office. "Okay, I can see your reason. And there was a little about Omi being kidnapped as a child. Wasn’t there something about a football scandal that Ken took the fall for? What was my reason?" 

Aya’s eyes shut and a look of acute grief crossed his face. "Riot. Your reason was tied up with a prostitution ring called Riot." 

"Riot? Oh, yes. There was a girl called Maki. The bastards killed her after she helped me. But wasn’t I already in Weiss by then?" 

"Yes. But Maki was the repeat of something that happened when you were a private investigator." 

Yohji stared. He had been right, after all. "So I _was_ a P. I.! I thought I might have been something like that, or a cop." 

Aya remained silent, his eyes watchful and wary. 

"I’m lost as to the earlier incident, though. I’m guessing another girl was killed by them." 

"She was your partner and, I think, your lover. Her name was Asuka." 

Yohji wondered why Aya looked as if he were braced for a blow. Asuka was the name of the nurse in the hospital but it must have struck some chord in him. Yet he couldn’t remember anything about the original girl. 

"No. That’s a blank. I remember that poor little Maki though. She was so courageous, you know. That was enough reason to hate the bastard, if he was behind it." He glanced up and surprised the strangest look on Aya’s face. "What is it?" 

"In the four years I’ve known you, you’ve carried the guilt of Asuka’s death like a cross on your back. Yet now, nothing. Just before you had your accident, you were seeing her everywhere. It was driving you slowly insane. I don’t understand how you remember us yet not her." 

"Perhaps it will come back later. I’m still only getting bits and pieces and then only of the time in Weiss. Four years you say?" 

"Four since I joined. The rest of you were already there. Though you told me that both you and Ken had only been there a matter of months." 

"So I’m getting tiny little fucking pieces of four years? How old am I? You realise I don’t even know when my birthday is?" 

Aya smiled slightly. "That I can tell you. You’re coming up for your twenty-sixth birthday on March third. Just a couple of months away." 

"I was very young for a private investigator." 

"I guess. But you were always good at working things out on missions. I suppose you’d always had that talent and it helped to keep you in business." 

Yohji stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, stretching his arm muscles as he did so. "You about ready for some lunch? I could collect some bagels or something." 

"Bagels sound good. There’s a place on the corner of fifth that does good ones. My wallet’s on the counter there." 

Yohji shook his head. "My treat for being honest with me. Honest about most of it, at least." He smirked slightly at the look of consternation on Aya’s face as he picked up the key card and quietly left the room. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya stared at the door after Yohji left. What had he meant by most of it? He’d even told the bastard about Asuka and all he seemed bothered about was their…thing. He refused to think of it as a relationship. He couldn’t place that burden on his friend. Then he realised that he thought of Yohji as a friend. _He was your lover,_ a small voice in his head was thinking. _Your first real love, despite Kikyou’s advances and that little fling with Yuushi._ He told the irritating little voice to go to hell and concentrated on trying to find out how much Kritiker knew about what Tsuji Mayumi had done to Yohji’s mind. 

He knew it had to be her. Yohji had been tense, nervous and looking for someone to simply tell him what to do when he and Ken had arrived back from Europe. However, he had not been seeing Asuka everywhere at that point. That started after Tsuji had got her claws into him. 

All he found in the files was Takatori Mamoru’s similar belief, mostly based on his own reports. It was frustrating as all hell to have no idea what had really happened in those times Yohji had spent with the bitch. 

An idea struck him suddenly and he hacked into the files that Kritiker had on Rosenkreuz. He ignored the obvious background files that stated that Rosenkreuz was an organisation that trained the ‘psychically talented’ for its own, mainly unknown, agenda. That it had links with Esset and that the talents it produced were always damaged in some way. He might have to swallow his pride and discuss their ‘training’ methods with Schuldig. 

He dug deeper into what was actually known about the recruitment and training of talents and found something that made his blood run cold. Although most trainees were recruited via subliminal campaigns that only the talented would recognise, a small percentage were thought to have had their minds altered or tampered with in some way. These usually fell into the category of minor talents. Was Yohji of their number? 

He shut down the computer and folded down the screen, still trying to make sense of it all. He was returned to a sense of his surroundings by the door opening and Yohji appearing with several paper bags and a tray of styrofoam cups. "I took the opportunity to get some decent coffee," he said with a grin. "I even found a small grocers and got a bag of ground coffee for the machine." 

"I’m surprised you’re not raiding the mini bar." What the hell had possessed him to remind Yohji about that? Now the man would get good and drunk at his expense. 

Yohji turned to stare at him. "You’re not allowed alcohol until you’ve finished the antibiotics and I’ve no desire to drink alone." 

"Hn. Maybe things do change after all." 

"Now what does that cryptic remark mean?" 

"Only that you used to come up with the flimsiest of excuses for drinking like a fish. Are you trying to tell me you’ve sobered up?" 

"No. I still enjoy a beer and I like good wine. I just don’t like drinking for the sake of it." 

The new, improved Yohji was taking some getting used to, Aya decided. Then he remembered what he’d read in the files and his expression darkened. 

"Something wrong?" Yohji asked as he placed a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of coffee on the night-stand within Aya’s reach. 

He nodded slowly. "I think I need to have a long talk with Takatori Mamoru." 

* * * * * * * 

Ken picked up the ringing hotel phone and listened. "Yes, I’ll speak to him. Put him through." He placed a hand over the receiver and mouthed ‘Takatori’ at Schuldig who was sitting on the second bed. 

Schuldig watched the range of emotions that crossed Ken’s face as he listened to what his boss had to say. They ran the gamut from satisfaction, through anger, then disbelief, a touch of horror, back to anger, and came to rest on resignation. The kitten almost broke the receiver when he slammed it back into the cradle. 

"Why does he have to be so arrogant about everything these days?" 

Realising that the question was purely rhetorical, Schuldig made no comment, merely waited for Ken to tell him whatever Takatori Mamoru had decided. 

"He’s agreed to your deal on the proviso that he doesn’t ever have to see you. Nagi or I are to act as go-betweens." That seemed to anger Ken for some reason. 

Schuldig shrugged indifferently. It was pretty much what he had expected. It might have been Farfarello who’d actually pulled the trigger, but both he and Takatori knew that it was his meddling that had got his first love killed. "As long as he agreed, I’m content." 

Ken had gone quiet, staring at the wall. 

Schuldig was intrigued but had the sense to stay out of the kitten’s head. "There was more." He said it with conviction. 

"Oh yeah. There was more. He’s going to contact Aya and order him to come to London immediately and to bring Yohji with him. You and I are to meet them at the airport and make sure Yohji stays safe. Can you believe that? Little Omi giving us all the order to jump and expecting to be obeyed! He will be, of course. Damn, this sucks!" 

"You really cared about him, ja?" 

"Yeah. I really did. Stupid, dumb footballer that I am." 

"I don’t think you’re either stupid or dumb. I think that the little Takatori has changed. He’s no longer the Weiss baby that you fell for." 

"Yeah. And he has his beloved Nagi now." 

Schuldig winced at the bitterness in Ken’s voice. He could sympathise with Ken’s loss, but, at the same time, knew that Nagi’s quiet and loyal nature were of more help to Mamoru in his current position. Still it must hurt to be thrown aside. "What say we go and drown our sorrows in a few beers?" 

"Before we do that, you’d better hear what your first task is. After that you might want to get even drunker than me." 

"Oh? What does he want me to do?" 

"Get inside Yohji’s head and fix the damage." 

Schuldig repressed the urge to laugh aloud at the absurdity of that ‘request.’ Didn’t the young fool realise that it was impossible? No, he probably didn’t. 

"I can probably speed up the retrieval of his long-term memory. But anything that had to do with the tampering is gone for good." 

"Perhaps that’s what he wants." 

"Maybe. Has anyone bothered to ask Kudoh what he wants? Let’s face it, any memories he has of me are going to be as an enemy. What makes Takatori think he’s going to let me anywhere near his mind?" 

Ken grimaced. "The fact that he ordered it, probably." 

Schuldig stood up and reached for his coat. "You’re right, Hidaka, suddenly I feel the urge to get very, very drunk. Let’s go." 

* * * * * * * 

In Japan, Mamoru replaced the receiver, after his call to Ken, and looked up to find Nagi staring at him as if he’d gone insane. "What?" 

"Schuldig can’t do that. He can’t mend the damage done by the tampering. Even if he tried, it could alert Rosenkreuz to both his and Kudoh’s whereabouts." 

"Oh hell!. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll phone Ken-kun again." How stupid could he be? He had probably just succeeded in making what was already bad even worse. 

"You may not have to. Schuldig’s not stupid. He won’t touch the tampering. He might even be able to help Kudoh retrieve everything else." 

Mamoru’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "Just how easy is it for you two to communicate?" 

Nagi shrugged. "Thought is instantaneous. Schwarz built a mental link and half of it is still in place. I haven’t told him anything important, though." 

Mamoru’s gaze softened. Nagi didn’t have to tell him that. He knew he could trust his lover. He stood up, walked around his desk, and enfolded Nagi in a hug. "You don’t need to tell me that, Nagi. I trust you implicitly. You’d better let him know that he’s not to attempt the part of Yohji-kun’s mind that has been tampered with though." 

Nagi nodded and returned the embrace. "I’ve passed on the message." 

Mamoru grinned. "Useful link, that." 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller was pacing his office in frustration. It was all very well to have Crawford in place, but he needed Schuldig, Naoe and Kudoh in order to finalise his plans. And the three men had apparently vanished off the face of the earth. 

"Where are you?" he muttered aloud as he paced. 

Naoe, he knew, might be difficult to find. There was no trace of Rosenkreuz in his talent or training. The damned pre cog had made certain of that. He stifled the urge to go and torment Crawford some more. Unfortunately, he needed the man both sane and in good health. A pity, really. He could do with venting his frustrations on something. 

Kudoh should be much easier to unearth. He was a clean slate waiting to be written on. His very slight empathy was an added bonus that could be trained and exploited when they had him. 

Schuldig, with his Rosenkreuz training should be the easiest of the three to track down. They had silenced him once and he left a trace like a static charge whenever he used his talent. Yet the telepath had, so far, eluded all his efforts to find him. Someone had to be helping the man. 

Of course! That was it! Find the organisations that could find a use for Schuldig’s talents and narrow it down from there. He crossed quickly to his desk and immediately began a computer search of such organisations. 

He smiled to himself. Soon he would have control of a new, improved Schwarz. With his own power and theirs in conjunction he was unstoppable. The true power behind every government, every political group, every terrorist activity. The guiding hand of organised crime the world over. He would be invincible.


	7. Vulnerable

The phone rang on Mamoru’s desk. He picked it up, frowning slightly. He had a ton of paperwork to plough through, still, and it was already some ungodly hour of the morning. The interruption was unwelcome but, judging by the time, it was probably Ken. 

"Persia here. Aya-kun? Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been worried sick about you." 

He listened again, the frown growing. "Which files? And who gave you permission to hack into Kritiker’s files?" 

He grimaced ruefully as he received the answers to his questions. Aya never had taken any notice of either rules or authority figures. Then he frowned again. 

"Rosenkreuz? No, I haven’t really looked at those files lately. One moment." He pulled the computer keyboard in front of him and tapped in the codes and passwords that would give him access to the relevant files. 

"We’ve never really looked into their training methods before…" Blue eyes widened suddenly as he read a certain part. "Yes, yes, I’m still here. I see what you mean." 

If what he was reading was true, and he had no reason to doubt its authenticity, then Yohji was in very real danger. It made him realise, yet again, why Crawford had never handed Nagi over to Rosenkreuz for training. It looked as if the man had some scruples after all. 

"Abyssinian, as soon as you are fit to travel, I want you and Balinese on a plane to London. Siberian is already there and will help you to protect Balinese." 

He sighed as Aya started to argue. "Whether we like it or not, Yohji-kun _is_ involved. I did try to keep him out of the loop but he refused that help and wandered off. Now we have to deal with the consequences." 

He was silent for a moment, not really listening to Aya’s next words. "Aya-kun, Schuldig is in London with Ken-kun. Perhaps he can help Yohji-kun retrieve more." He held the receiver away from his ear as a blast of pure fury came through the connection. 

"I don’t care, Aya-kun. A member of my ‘family’ is vulnerable. The rest of us are going to do whatever it takes to keep him safe. I’m not prepared to argue this point with you. Get to London, let Ken-kun know when you are arriving and he’ll meet you at the airport. And ask Schuldig to give you as much information as he can about Rosenkreuz, especially their training methods. Now, how long before you are able to travel? Two days? Can you make it less? Oh, I see. Two days, then, but don’t leave it any longer. I want you both safely with Ken-kun. Goodnight, Aya-kun." He replaced the receiver before he had to listen to anymore vitriol from the other man. He was not going to move on this. He had to keep them safe at all costs. 

He eyed the remaining paperwork with acute dislike for a moment, before deciding that he’d had enough and was going to bed. If Nagi was still awake he could ask him what he knew about Rosenkreuz, their training and agenda. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya threw his cell phone across the room and snarled in frustration. Damn it all to hell! He had thought himself free of Kritiker’s machinations and he was damned sure that Yohji had. Now Takatori wanted them both back in the thick of things. 

"He was still awake then?" Yohji spoke dryly but sounded amused. 

"It’s not fucking funny!" He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how he was going to break the news of their orders to Yohji. 

"After what you were saying about this Rosenkreuz organisation, I’m not laughing." 

Aya glanced up to find Yohji retrieving his phone from the floor. "Something amused you." 

"Mainly your reaction. Brought back a couple more memories." 

"I don’t think I even want to know what memories _they_ were." He sighed as he accepted the phone and placed it back on the night stand. "We’ve been ordered to London just as soon as I’m able to travel." 

Yohji frowned. "Why?" 

"Ken’s there and Takatori wants him and I to take care of you." 

"Because you’re both convinced that I’m in danger from these Rosenkreuz guys?" 

Aya nodded and looked Yohji in the eye. "They wouldn’t have wiped your memory just for the hell of it. They had some motive for doing what they did. Whether it’s because they think you have some form of psychic ability or for some other reason, I don’t know. But you can’t just be left for them to find." 

Yohji shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "I think…this is going to sound crazy. I think I may have some sort of ability." 

"Why?" And why was he not surprised? While he’d been the cold focus of Weiss, Ken its action and Omi its brain, Yohji had been its heart. A lazy, teasing bastard of a heart, but one that could always reach out to a team-mate in distress. 

"I told you I was travelling aimlessly. That was true, as far as it went, but something told me I needed to be in New York. Not just in the city but in a particular street at a particular time. I followed this little…voice, I guess you’d call it, and found you." 

"And you did this with no memory of who I was? Yeah, I’d say you had some talent. Perhaps more than Rosenkreuz realises. Am I going to have to fight with you to get you to London?" 

Yohji sighed then smiled. "What makes you think it would be such a hardship to go wherever you’re going?" 

Aya raised a sceptical brow. "The very fact that you’ll get dragged back into all this again. You seemed so contented when I woke up in the hospital and now look at you. You’ve become bitter again already." He tried desperately to ignore the bit about him. It was over, why couldn’t Yohji just accept that? 

"The bitterness is more to do with well-meaning morons thinking they know what’s best for me. I’m not some fragile little bloom to be carefully nurtured and tended." Green eyes widened slightly. "Flowers. Why am I seeing so many flowers? I even dreamed about them the other night. Shit! Were we florists?" Yohji sounded incredulous. 

Aya nodded. "The Koneko no Sumu ie was the name of the shop. It was a stupid pun on our codenames. Whoever thought it up should have found something better to do with their time." 

Yohji had a faraway look that told Aya he was getting a few more memories returned and was mentally sorting through them. "Manx? Birman? They came to mind. They gave us the missions, right?" 

Aya looked away, knowing he had to give Yohji yet more pain. "They’re both dead." 

"I’m sorry. It hasn’t really hit me in any emotional way. All I can remember is names and faces. It’s almost as if they are someone else’s memories playing, like a movie, in my head." 

"Perhaps your mind is finding its own way of protecting itself." Aya rather hoped that might be true. 

"Maybe. Yes, I’ll come to London with you. Seeing Ken might trigger some more." 

Aya sighed. "Are you absolutely certain you want it triggered?" 

Yohji nodded, his expression serious. "Oh yes, I want it all back. I’m not Ito Ryo. I never really was. I need to be Kudoh Yohji again." 

Aya closed his eyes and bowed his head in defeat. The contented man at the hospital was going to disappear forever. How long would it be before Yohji was a bitter, alcoholic mess again? 

* * * * * * * 

Hans Dietmeiller found several organisations that might well find a use for Kudoh. Not least of them was his old organisation, Kritiker, which was now run by an extremely young, Japanese politician. It looked like it would be very easy pickings. If they _were_ protecting Kudoh, he would have the man within days. He picked up the phone. 

"Schmidt? Who have we got in Japan right now? Andrews and Dubois? Excellent. I want them to go to the address I’m about to send you by e-mail and speak with a Mamoru Takatori. They’re to find out all he knows about Kudoh or either of the missing Schwarz talents. If they have to use force, that’s not a problem. It just means one less little upstart enemy. Good. I knew you’d understand. Yes, thank you. Good day." 

He put down the receiver, sent his e-mail and sat back in his chair with a grin on his face. Kudoh would be his and Takatori dead. There was nothing quite like killing two birds with one stone. 

* * * * * * * 

"Aya? Did you speak to him? I see." Ken grimaced as he held the phone away from his ear. "Hey! It’s not my fault! Yeah, I know. So, are you coming here or have you told him where to get off? You are? When? Right. Yeah. Got that. And Yotan’s coming with you? Cool! It’ll be good to see him again. I’ll find us a place to stay while you’re resting up." He chuckled. "No. Tell Yotan, I promise. No flower shops. Yeah. See you on Thursday then. Take care." He turned to Schuldig, whose apartment he was now sharing. 

"We need to find a much bigger place to stay. They’re both coming here. Arriving 2.30pm Thursday afternoon." 

Schuldig frowned slightly. "Why are they waiting?" 

"Aya got stabbed in the gut. He’s still a bit weak and sore so he’s resting up for a day or two before travelling." 

"Unlike him to be so careless." 

Ken thought about that for a moment. "I think he probably had a lot on his mind at the time. Anyway, it was a kid. Aya thought he’d just bumped into him until he felt the knife. Reckons he was trying to rob him only all he was carrying was the key card to his hotel room. Nearly died of blood loss though." He suddenly realised he was waffling on as usual and blushed slightly. 

Schuldig smirked at him. "You save me all the trouble of digging things out of your head, Hidaka." 

"Yeah, well… Listen, you know London a lot better than I do. Where would be a good place to find either a really large apartment or a house for rent?" 

"How much do you want to pay?" 

"Money isn’t really a problem for me, but then again, I’d rather not be ripped off." 

Schuldig nodded thoughtfully. "You need to stay out of Chelsea, Kensington and Mayfair, then. They’re very upmarket and very expensive. Do you want trendy?" 

"Not especially. We’re trying to keep a low profile not become social butterflies!" 

Schuldig chuckled. "Then forget Battersea, Islington, Camden Town and the City. If you’re not looking for anything too central, Hammersmith, Notting Hill, Hackney or Lewisham might be best. You might even be able to buy something affordable in one of those areas." 

Ken shook his head. The names didn’t mean a thing to him. "The last four, can you show me where they are on the map?" He spread open a large fold out map of the city and placed it on the table. Schuldig bent over it. 

"Hackney is there, out to the north east. Hammersmith is slightly off your map just west of the edge. Lewisham is south east and, again, off your map. Notting Hill is there." He stabbed a finger at an area between Central London and Hammersmith. "It’s the most central but the prices may well reflect that." 

"So what area are we in here?" 

"We’re in Camberwell." Schuldig pointed to an area just south of Elephant and Castle. 

"Is it very expensive?" 

"There’s nowhere that is really cheap in the whole of Greater London. But, if you’re going for low key, I’d suggest the Lewisham area." 

Ken grinned suddenly. "How do I get to Lewisham?" 

* * * * * * * 

Ken was full of hidden surprises, Schuldig decided, and his mind was not that easy to read as he raced from thought to thought like an express train trying to beat a speed record. Having once written the man off as the dumb Weiss hothead, he was now finding that he was quite capable of holding his own against shark-like estate agents. He knew exactly what he wanted and how much he was prepared to pay for it. Studying the photos and details of the local properties in the estate-agents’ windows had given him a good idea of the average prices for the area. The result of all the negotiations had led to them standing outside a roomy townhouse with vacant possession, on a side street just off Lewisham High Street. It even had a small patch of green at the front and, the agent standing with them assured them, a larger, walled garden at the back. 

Ken shrugged a picture of indifference. "Let’s see it then." 

The agent let them in and they looked around. There was a large kitchen, a lounge, dining room, possible study and utility room downstairs. The second floor held a bathroom and three bedrooms and the top floor another bathroom and a further two bedrooms. There was even a basement. Plenty of room for the kitties, that was for sure. 

"How much?" 

The agent referred to his notes and named a price. 

"Knock a couple of grand off that and you’ll have a cash sale." Ken was all serious business and Schuldig looked out of a back window at the walled garden in order to hide his smirk. 

"I would have to check with the vendor," the agent said, flipping open his phone. 

"You do that. But the place has been on the market for a while. I think he’ll take it." Ken was absolutely right, of course, and the seller happily agreed to the reduction. He probably considered himself fortunate that he hadn’t been knocked down even further. 

"How long will the paperwork take?" 

"With a cash sale we can push it through by tomorrow. If you can have the money with us by 2.30 tomorrow afternoon, we can let you have the keys then." 

"That’s fine. I’ll go straight to my lawyers." 

Schuldig followed Ken and the agent out of the house and, after the agent had gone back to his office, smirked. "Well done." 

Ken glanced back at the house and grinned. "It’s okay, isn’t it? There’s plenty of room there for us all." 

"And then some. There are only three of you." 

Ken stopped grinning and gave Schuldig a level look. "Four of us, actually. You’re expected to move in, too." 

Schuldig was suddenly angry. "Takatori keeping an eye on me?" 

Ken had the decency to look uncomfortable, at least. "Something like that." 

"Do Fujimiya and Kudoh know about this?" He could just imagine what they would think about it. It would be amusing if he didn’t have the feeling that one or other of the arriving kittens would attempt to kill him. 

Ken was shaking his head. "Not yet." 

"I assume this is why you asked me about areas and dragged me along to look at houses." 

Ken shrugged. "It was the best I could do. Give you a say, you know." 

Schuldig’s sense of humour reasserted itself. "I don’t know about you, Kenken, but I’m really not looking forward to Thursday!" Another thought struck him then. "And, I suppose, I’m expected to go furniture shopping with you as well." He wasn’t at all surprised when Ken gave him a sheepish grin and nodded. There was no doubt about it. The man was full of surprises. 

* * * * * * * 

Nagi was deeply troubled. His conversation with Mamoru, last night, after the man had come to bed, had been, quite frankly, alarming. Rosenkreuz was not an organisation that you messed with. He sent out a wary tendril of thought. 

*Schu?* 

*Yes Nagi? Remembering that it’s one in the morning here and I’ve had a very hard day…* 

*Mamoru has been asking me about Rosenkreuz.* 

*I wondered how long it would take him.* 

*I think Fujimiya put the idea in his head.* 

*Ack. That’s my fault. I suggested he search Kritiker’s files for anything on Kudoh. I should have realised he’d want to know why it happened.* 

*He wants to know about Rosenkreuz training methods.* There was a sudden string of mental invective in German from Schuldig. 

*Nagi, get the hell out of there! Right now!* 

*But…* 

*Explanations while your moving. Try and make Takatori see reason and leave, also.* Nagi gasped out loud and clenched his fists in an attempt to control his power. 

*Are you serious, Schu? How can he leave?* 

*If he doesn’t, they’ll use him to get at you. They won’t care if they rip a mundane’s mind to shreds. Damn! I should have realised what was happening before this.* 

*What is happening, Schu?* 

*They’re searching for us, Nagi. You, me, Kudoh. Just get the hell out of there now.* 

At first confused as to why he should be in danger at Kritiker, Nagi suddenly realised why. *Kudoh’s the easiest to trace, straight to Mamoru.* 

*Exactly. Drag him out screaming if you have to but get the both of you out of there right now.* 

*I will. Be careful yourself.* 

Nagi quickly severed the link, concerned that it might be traced if there were Rosenkreuz agents in the area. Then he glanced across the office at Mamoru. He took a deep breath. If Schuldig was right, he didn’t have any time to lose.


	8. Weak Links

After his mental talk with Schuldig, Nagi stood up and crossed the office to Mamoru’s littered desk. Blue eyes glanced up in surprise before his lover smiled at him. Something in his expression must have shown for the smile quickly changed to a more serious look. 

"What’s wrong, Nagi?" 

Nagi took a deep breath. "Mamoru, you need to listen to me. Please, just hear me out. There isn’t much time." 

Mamoru’s frown deepened but he nodded curtly and motioned Nagi to the chair across the desk from him. 

Nagi perched on the edge of the chair, his stomach almost heaving due to the amount of adrenaline flowing through his blood stream. "We have to leave here before Rosenkreuz find us." 

Mamoru’s eyebrow’s twitched together in confusion. "Why would they be looking for us, Nagi?" 

"They’re looking for Kudoh, Schuldig and me, but they’ll break your mind to try to find us. I don’t want that to happen to you. We need to leave, _now_." 

"Did Schuldig tell you this?" The distrust in Mamoru’s tone was evident. 

"He only worked it out after I mentioned your asking about Rosenkreuz training. It worried me, you asking about them as if you were going to take them on single-handed. So I spoke to Schu because he has first hand experience of them." He hated the hurt, betrayed look on Mamoru’s face but still couldn’t regret talking to Schu. 

"I guess you could go into hiding for a while. Go to Schuldig, maybe. I have to stay here, however. Kritiker will not run itself." A coldness in his tone that Nagi had come to recognise too well. 

He sighed. "You’re not listening to me. If they get to you, there’s nowhere any of us can go and remain safe. They’ll tear all the knowledge you have from your mind. It will be agony and afterwards I doubt if you’ll be sane." 

"It’s a risk I have to take for the sake of….." 

Nagi jumped up and slammed his fist on the desk, leaving a dent where his power had slipped its leash with the force of his emotions. "Can’t you see? It’s _you_ putting your ‘family’ at risk this time. You cannot stand up to these people. How well did you do against Schuldig? And he was only playing with you at the time." He hated himself for reminding Mamoru of that; hated the extra pain he saw in his eyes. "They won’t be playing. You will not be able to stand up against them." 

"I can’t just leave, Nagi." 

"Then we’ll all be as good as dead. I know you don’t care about Schu, but what about Kudoh? And, if they’re with him, Hidaka and Fujimiya." He stared at Mamoru, willing him to see sense. 

"You didn’t even mention yourself." The words were spoken softly, Mamoru’s eyes still full of pain. "If I lost you…" 

"Then come with me." Nagi was getting desperate by this time. 

"Who would look after all this, if I did that?" 

"Who’ll look after it if you’re dead? Don’t you see? This can be rebuilt, you can’t. Do I have to drag you out of here? You’re the weak link, Mamoru, the one endangering us all." He waited breathlessly as his lover thought things through. 

When Mamoru finally spoke, it was with a trace of bitterness. "I worked so hard to try and keep everyone safe, yet now I’m the biggest threat to you all. You don’t have to use your power on me, Nagi. I’ll come quietly." He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a gun, a watch, and some keys. "Let’s go." 

They slipped out of a door, carefully disguised as part of the wood panelling, and headed down the back stairs. A few moments later they were in an unremarkable car and heading for the airport. 

* * * * * * * 

"Damn!" The heavyset foreigner who had burst into Takatori Mamoru’s office was clearly disgusted. 

A slighter, shorter foreigner followed him in. Alphonse Dubois gazed around and smiled. "Well, mon ami, it’s both good news and bad." 

The first man turned to stare at him. "You think it’s going to be fun telling Dietmeiller that we lost him?" 

Dubois shook his head. "He has run. That means he probably knows where Kudoh is." He frowned slightly. "I wonder how he knew to run. He must have had some warning." An intelligent pair of grey eyes turned in his direction. 

"Schuldig, perhaps?" 

"It is very possible. Come, Andrews, there is nothing we can do here." 

"There might be files, papers…" Andrews looked around, his gaze suddenly coming to rest on the desk. "Well, well, well. That looks like the mark of a frightened telekinetic to me." 

Dubois followed the direction of Andrews’ gaze and smiled as he spotted the dent in the desk. "Naoe," he murmured, happily. Andrews had picked up some papers. 

"We do not have the time, Andrews." 

"No. You’re right." Reluctantly he put the papers back on the desk. 

Dubois was always so thankful that he didn’t have to spell things out to his partner. It would be a very bad idea to be caught here right now. He always hated the idea of explaining to the authorities that his victims must have had some kind of seizure. He turned and led the way back through the outer office where Rex lay, sprawled face-first across her desk, bleeding from her ears and nose. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya was pleased with the fact that there was no more dizziness when he stood up. He entered the bathroom and pulled off the sweatpants he’d been wearing while stuck in his bed. As he adjusted the shower temperature, he thought back over the last two days. 

He had to admit he didn’t know what he would have done if it hadn’t been for Yohji. The man had helped him to the bathroom, brought in food and decent coffee, bullied him into taking the antibiotics and painkillers supplied by the hospital and dressed his wound, which was now completely closed and healing fast. 

He stepped into the shower and luxuriated in the feel of hot water sloughing the dirt and dead skin cells off of his body and wetting his hair, ready for shampoo. His thoughts returned to the…comfort of having Yohji around, to the conversations over little, unimportant things. It had been enjoyable. 

He snorted softly as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair. Things were about to change. A flight to London, Ken and then Schuldig. Whatever was waiting for them in England, it wasn’t likely to be comfort and enjoyment. He sighed as he stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his hips before rubbing another over his wet hair. How would Yohji cope? 

He frowned at his reflection as he plugged in his shaver. Damn it all. Why the hell did he keep thinking about the man? It was over and had been for a year or more. Except that, whether he willed it or no, Yohji was back in his life. 

"But how long will you stay this time?" he asked aloud to his reflection. How long before the next woman showed up to steal him away? He didn’t, for one moment, believe that Yohji had no interest in women anymore, that he distrusted them. He shaved as he placidly came to the conclusion that Yohji was best kept at arm’s length. He was fine as a friend, but no more than that. 

He left the bathroom and opened his suitcase, thoughtfully left on the room’s second bed by Yohji before he went to collect his own belongings. Selecting a light, but warm, cream sweater and brown slacks, from the case, he dressed quickly. He was in the process of packing the last of his belongings when the door opened to admit Yohji and a large suitcase. 

He almost snarled when he was asked if he was okay. It should be obvious to the idiot that he was just fine. 

Yohji grimaced and hauled his own case onto the bed. He opened it and drew a long, thin object out of it. His eyes were serious as he held out the object to Aya. 

"I promised you that I would return this to you. I’m keeping that promise." 

Aya glanced down at the sheathed katana before reaching out a hand to touch it lightly. He never knew whether he loved or hated the damned thing. No wonder he had chosen to name it Shion. He felt the same way about his old sword-master. Then Yohji’s words finally sank in. 

"You remembered your promise?" 

"Yes. Apart from us trying to kill each other, it’s the only thing I do remember from that time." 

Why did he feel so touched by Yohji remembering that and keeping his word? He shook his head. "If we’d really tried to kill each other, one of us, if not both, would be dead." With a strange reluctance, he drew his hand back from his sword. "You’d better keep it until we get to London. My case is too small to hold it." 

Yohji nodded and replaced the weapon amongst the clothing in his case almost reverently. Then he shut the case and glanced round the room. "Almost like leaving home." 

"It’s a hotel room, Yohji, nothing more." And he was so weary of them and countless other impersonal, soulless rooms. Home was like a distant dream, almost meaningless to him anymore. 

"No, it isn’t. Wherever you are is home." 

Yohji’s quiet words made him frown. "Don’t," he whispered. 

"Why not?" 

"Because…because there’s nothing there." 

"Liar." 

He tried to glare at the fool only to find such an understanding look in those beautiful green eyes. He was the first to look away. Seconds later, Yohji’s arms were round him and he was being kissed. He whimpered slightly and wrapped fingers in blond hair, deepening the kiss. Then common sense reasserted itself and he pulled away. 

"We have a plane to catch, Kudoh." 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig handed Ken a plastic cup of airport coffee and smirked as the kitten made a face at the taste of it. They were seated in the arrivals area of Terminal Four waiting for Kudoh and Fujimiya to go through all the immigration procedures, baggage claim and customs checks that always seemed to take longer than the actual flight. And Schuldig was still wondering if his being here was such a good idea. 

"You know, I could wait by the car." It was the third or fourth time he’d said it and Ken’s answer was the same. 

"He’s got to get used to you, might as well start here." 

"What if he attacks me or something." 

"Neither Aya nor I are going to let that happen. Relax Schu." 

He smiled slightly at Ken’s use of his shortened name but still fidgeted in anticipation of Kudoh’s reaction to him. "Perhaps if you had warned him it would have been better." 

"And perhaps he wouldn’t have known what the hell we were talking about. Aya said he’s only got bits. You might not even be one of those bits." 

"I hope you’re right otherwise I’m going to have to erase a rather nasty scene from a lot of peoples’ minds and I’d rather not do that with Rosenkreuz looking for me." 

"Even if he does recognise you and takes a swing at you, to these people it’ll just be a storm in a teacup, forgotten in hours." 

Schuldig frowned slightly at Ken’s blasé attitude. "Did Weiss actually depend on people forgetting strange incidents?" 

Ken chuckled. "We didn’t tend to attack our targets in front of witnesses. We didn’t have the dramatic flair that you guys tended to go for." 

"I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted." 

Ken shrugged. "A bit of both, probably. Ah, here they come." 

Schuldig glanced across to the opening from the customs hall where a large influx of people heralded the end of the formalities for the flight from New York. He was looking for Fujimiya’s trademark crimson hair before he remembered that the man had muted its colour somewhat. In the end it was Kudoh’s bleached head that he spotted first. 

Ken rushed forward and hugged Kudoh who returned the embrace a little uncertainly. Schuldig stayed in the background but Kudoh’s green eyes unerringly spotted him. 

"You? What the fuck?" Kudoh lunged forward only to be held back by Ken’s tightened grip. 

"Not here, Yohji. We’ll explain on the way." 

Schuldig watched as Kudoh turned to Fujimiya. "You knew?" There was a curt nod and then violet eyes were turned on him. Their expression was forbidding. There was no friendship in the cold depths, just an overwhelming warning. 

"Why the fuck didn’t you warn me? I remember him. He was one of our enemies." 

Schuldig could only be glad that he was speaking in Japanese. Fujimiya’s glare and snarled out, "not now, Kudoh," suggested that he felt the same way. 

Ken gradually started easing Kudoh towards the exit, chattering inconsequentially all the way. Fujimiya picked up the man’s dropped suitcase and followed them. Schuldig fell in behind, feeling rather like a naughty schoolboy. 

* * * * * * * 

The drive back to Lewisham was tense and silent. Ken concentrated on getting them through the heavy London traffic, glad of the distraction. Schuldig in the passenger seat was morose and staring out of the window. In the back, Aya and Yohji were wound like tight springs, ready to jump on the slightest thing. Ken felt the tension between them as well as that directed towards Schuldig. He thought Yohji had been right, Aya should have warned him. It was, almost inevitably, Yohji that broke the silence. 

"Okay, I probably over-reacted at the airport but, you have to realise, I only know you as an enemy." 

Schuldig turned in his seat to look back at Yohji. "Understandable. Do you remember much about me?" 

"Only that you got some girl killed." 

Everyone remembers that, it seems." Schuldig’s tone was bitter. "Ah well, as we sow, so shall we reap. You didn’t remember Nagi." 

"More has come back since then. Anyway, he works for Omi, now, right?" Ken flinched. He’d forgotten that some of Yohji’s memories were going to be painful for all of them, not just the man himself. 

"He’s not the only one," Schuldig said. 

In his mirror, Ken saw Aya nod slightly in answer to Yohji’s questioning look before leaning forward. 

"I’ve been told to ask you about Rosenkreuz training methods." 

Schuldig visibly winced. "You really don’t want to know, Abyssinian, but I’ll tell you what I can when we reach the house Ken bought." 

Ken frowned slightly. Up to now, Schuldig had called the place home. He guessed he couldn’t really blame him for the change of heart. 

Aya appeared to have accepted Schuldig’s answer as he settled back in his seat. Now seemed as good a time as ever to tell them Omi’s other bright idea. Ken took a deep breath. "Persia wants Schu to help Yohji retrieve more memories." 

"No way in hell," Yohji snapped. 

Aya was even more succinct. "Has he lost his own mind? There have been enough people tampering with Kudoh’s head already." 

Ken grimaced. "Hey! Don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger!" 

"I’ve already told him what I think." Aya was scathing. Ken could well imagine what he might have said and none of it would have been what their boss wanted to hear. 

"Wait a minute. You knew this had been suggested?" Oh, Yohji was not pleased. Ken wondered if the two were going to have one of their almost legendary fights in the back of the car. 

Aya shrugged. "Takatori did mention it." 

Abruptly Yohji chuckled. "No wonder you threw your phone across the room." 

Ken relaxed again and could only be thankful when they reached the house. "This is it." 

* * * * * * * 

Ken had helped get their luggage upstairs to, thankfully, separate rooms and had made them tea. At a look from Aya, he had taken Yohji ‘to see the garden’ and left him alone with Schuldig. 

Aya sipped his tea and gazed at the German over the rim of his cup. Schuldig met his gaze, outwardly calm, though his bright blue eyes were wary. Aya was the first to speak. "I think either Esset or Rosenkreuz, whoever that bitch was working for, wiped Kudoh’s mind for a reason. I know there have been incidences of minor talents having their minds wiped before being incorporated into the organisation. Why would they want Kudoh?" 

Schuldig sat forward. "Before I answer you, tell me something. Why do you think you spent so long at Koua Academy without having Tsuji Mayumi take any interest in you?" 

"Presumably because I have no special talent." The thought gave him some comfort. 

Schuldig nodded before asking another question. "And how long was Balinese there before she noticed him?" 

"It happened almost immediately." 

"Days? Weeks?" 

"Hours." 

Schuldig leaned back thoughtfully. "Hours you say. This gets more serious by the moment." 

Aya felt his frustration begin to build. "Come on, Schuldig, stop stalling." He received an angry frown for that. 

"Before I can give you a considered opinion, I need all the facts. The fact that it only took a matter of hours for her to pick up on Kudoh suggests that he’s not a minor talent but a major one. Like you, I believe that his memory was wiped ready for whatever purpose Rosenkreuz had in mind for him, probably training initially. But, the fact that he was spotted so quickly, means that Rosenkreuz would take more of an interest in him than they would in a minor talent." 

"Up to yesterday, I thought that Kudoh was a minor talent and that they’d ignore his loss. Then you and the little Takatori triggered something in my mind with your interest in Rosenkreuz training methods. I now believe they are searching for Nagi, Kudoh and myself. If I’m right, and I think I am, they are intending to put together another Schwarz. Only this time, we will have our minds broken so there is no more thought of escape." 

"If you’re right, won’t they go after Nagi?" Aya wasn’t overly concerned about the telekinetic, but wherever he was Omi was also. It surprised him, after all that the brand new Takatori had said to them, that he was still concerned for his ex teammate. 

"They would consider Kudoh the easy prey, the weak link. It wouldn’t take them long to realise that his old organisation would probably know where to find him." 

Aya jumped to his feet. "But that means…." 

"Take it easy, Fujimiya. I’ve already warned Nagi. He’s not stupid and will have got Bombay or Persia or whoever the hell he is now out of there. He might just withstand them, his lover wouldn’t. They’d chew him up and spit him out." 

Aya sat back down. "What would they do to you if they caught you?" 

"Break us. They are not interested in either personality or emotions, just willing slaves to do their bidding. They trained me, yet I still don’t really know exactly what their hidden agenda is. Whatever it might be, we would be used to further their plans. We would have no say in the matter. We never did. That’s why we fought the Elders. We wanted to be free to choose our own destinies. Fat lot of good that did us." 

Aya frowned. "You say they are not interested in emotions, yet it was Kudoh’s emotions that were used against him." 

Schuldig looked Aya straight in the eye, his gaze challenging. "You were always the coldly practical member of Weiss, doing whatever needed to be done, accepting the fact that you were a killer, yet I don’t believe even you could do what was done to Kudoh. You asked me about their training methods. We were taken, as children, to their facility in Germany. For years we were tortured and abused until the very use of our once natural talents became painful. I refuse to discuss the details, even now the memories are too raw to be touched, but when Brad found Nagi, he was determined that nobody would put the boy through that." 

And of all of Schwarz, Nagi had been the one to dislike unnecessary killing, Aya mused. The one who had cared about a mentally retarded girl enough to try to save her from his own team as well as Weiss. The one who had saved his life when Yohji hadn’t been there. Another question occurred to him. 

"Why do they wipe the minds of minor talents? Why not give them the same training as you and Crawford received?" 

"It’s thought that memory is the key to emotion. As I said, they have no use for that in their agents. In Kudoh’s case, they wouldn’t want him remembering you or Hidaka in case he was sent against you. And the training that Brad and I received would literally break the mind of a lesser talent, one like yourself, for instance." 

Aya looked up from the contemplation of his teacup, deeply shocked. "I don’t have any talent." 

"The way you held your own for so long against both Brad and Farfarello suggests otherwise. Brad thought you might be very slightly precognitive. I tend to agree. Obviously, it is so latent that it wasn’t even spotted by the agents at Koua." 

Aya wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sorry. Glad, maybe, that Rosenkreuz would overlook him, perhaps even underestimate him; sorry because his ‘talent’ was too nebulous to be of any real use. Schuldig had obviously been following his thoughts. 

"It’s of use. It’s kept you alive a few times. It’s just not enough to interest Rosenkreuz." 

"Stay out of my head!" The reaction was both reflexive and instinctive, absolute horror at the thought of the man across the table being privy to his weaknesses. 

Schuldig just gave him that annoying smirk. "So, what do you want me to do about Kudoh?" 

"If he’ll allow it, and it doesn’t alert Rosenkreuz to where you are, you should give him as much back as you can." He almost winced at the pain that thought gave him. He did, in fact close his eyes as he realised that Yohji would rediscover all his guilt. 

"I can do that if he agrees," Schuldig was saying. "Of course, I can’t touch the tampering, but that’s not such a bad thing." 

Aya’s eyes snapped open again. "Oh? Why would that be?" 

"As I said, it was his emotions that were used against him. They believed the overriding emotion to be guilt over his lost partner and that Schrient bitch. That’s what they used. I thought it might have been, but I did a very quick scan of his mind to be sure. What I’m saying, Abyssinian, is that Neu and his partner are probably gone for good." He smirked. "Which, of course, gives you the perfect excuse to let your own emotions have free rein." 

Oh, this was just too much! He glared at the annoying prick across the table and stood up. "Stay out of both my emotions and Kudoh's!" Of course, the asshole just smirked back at him. He clenched his fists, knowing Schuldig’s enhanced speed made it almost impossible to kill the man. "Go and see if he’ll let you help him." The smirk remained, but Schuldig did stand up and head towards the garden. "Bastard!" 

"Right back at you, Fujimiya."


	9. Reunions

"I thought I said no flowers." Yohji lit a cigarette and mock glared at Ken. 

"You said no flower shop. This is a garden. Aya will like it." 

Yohji frowned in concentration. "Aya likes gardens? I hadn’t remembered that." 

Ken shrugged. "He likes flowers. He’s good at looking after them and arranging them." He glanced at Yohji. "How much do you remember about me?" 

Yohji chuckled. "Soccer. And you like kids." That bit had just returned, Ken playing soccer with all the local kids. He had a vague flash of him and Ken teasing each other. "I think we got on quite well." The pleased grin on Ken’s face made adding that last, small sentence worth it. Yohji found himself grinning in response. 

"I’m guessing I’ve been dragged out here so Aya and Schuldig can talk. I hate this, Ken. Without memories, how do I know who’s a friend and who’s trying to kill me?" 

Ken looked away, uncomfortable about something. "Schuldig could help you." It was said hesitantly as if he expected Yohji to explode or something. "But he won’t without your agreement." 

Yohji studied the glowing end of his smoke for several minutes. "Can I trust him in my head, Ken?" 

"Yeah. I really think you can." All the hesitation had vanished. Ken spoke with conviction. 

"Okay. Might be good to get my childhood or something." He took a final drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out against the high wall that enclosed the garden. 

"You never really talked about your childhood, but I get the feeling that Aya was the only one of us that had anything like a normal upbringing. Omi was kidnapped then raised as an assassin, I grew up in an orphanage after my mom died. Never did know my father. I don’t know what you might find." 

"It doesn’t matter, Ken. What matters is that it’s part of me, the real me, not the happy little shell of a man who found Aya in New York." He had a sudden thought. Ken hadn’t seen him since the…whatever it was. He would know how much he had of himself. "Do I seem like the man you knew?" 

"Basically, yes. I mean your personality seems pretty much the same. Only…" Ken stopped speaking as if trying to figure something out. 

"Only what?" 

"This is gonna sound nuts, but it seems more genuine, somehow. It’s like you were wearing a mask or something before." Ken frowned direly then suddenly his face cleared. "I know what it is. Now your smile is real." 

Yohji raised his brows at that and decided that he needed another cigarette. Aya had hinted that he was ‘improved’ while they had waited in New York for his stab wound to heal and now Ken was saying something very similar. He wondered just how fucked up he had really been. "Aya seemed to think I was going crazy." 

"Last time we saw each other, we both were. I was enjoying the killing too much and you were withdrawn and just weird." 

Yohji nodded and smoked, staring into the distance. "I still want the memories back, Ken. I still want to be ‘me’ whoever that is." 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig grimaced slightly. Kudoh was staring at him as if he were a particularly nasty bug. He wasn’t sure if he could do anything at all while the man was in this frame of mind. "You need to relax." 

Kudoh snorted. "How can I relax when someone I think of as an enemy is going to mess with my mind?" 

Schuldig sighed. This was impossible. Then he realised that he hadn’t fully explained the procedure to any of them. "All I intend to do is speed up your memory retrieval processes. I don’t intend to read your thoughts or manipulate you in any way. All I will be doing is assisting nature." 

Kudoh stared at him for a moment longer then, abruptly nodded. "Okay. Let’s get on with it." 

Schuldig closed his eyes and concentrated. He was in a dark, silent room with just small flashes of light around him. Realising these were the few memories that Kudoh had so far retrieved, he looked around for something he could use. He spotted a door but it was barred, bolted and chained locked and he knew he was looking at the tampering. Shying away from that, he spotted a small window and went towards it. Outside it was light, but the light wasn’t getting into the room. He tried wiping the pane, only to find it was opaque. Then he spotted the catch which appeared to be stuck. He tried to shift it but found that it really was stuck. He wrestled with it, easing it back and forth, until he felt it give. Releasing it, he threw open the window. Light streamed into the room together with the sounds and smells of the outside world. Nodding to himself, Schuldig retreated back into his own mind. 

He opened his eyes to find Kudoh wide-eyed with shock and he wondered if the man was going to have a seizure. Then the green eyes focused and Kudoh smiled at him. "Thank you." 

For what? Schuldig wondered. "You have some more memories?" 

"Not so far, but the memories I do have make more sense now. Before it was like they’d happened to someone else. Now I know they happened to me." He was quiet for a moment before catching Schuldig’s eye again. "I know that we were enemies at one time, but, with what you’ve done here, I’m prepared to try being friends." 

Schuldig smirked at him. "Don’t go overboard, Kudoh. Use your common sense, and decide over time if I’m trustworthy." 

"You kept your word while you were in my head. That’s good enough for me." 

"Not strictly true, Kudoh. I opened the way for your memories to take some substance, which means I experienced some of them." He grinned. "I promise I stayed away from anything to do with Fujimiya, though." 

Kudoh actually blushed. "So I should think. Pervert!" It was said without real heat, much as he might say something similar to Ken. Schuldig began to believe that he might actually have made a friend. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya awoke to the insistent sound of his cellphone ringing. He groaned slightly and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Three in the morning. Who the hell would be calling at this time? He reached out and fumbled about until he found the damned phone and flipped it open. 

"Do you know what time it is?" Not the best of greetings but he didn’t much care. 

"I’m sorry, Aya-kun. Our plane only just got in and apparently no hotel will book us in at this time of night." 

Aya sat up rather quickly. "You’re here? In London?" 

"Well, at the airport, but yes." 

"Okay. Were you followed?" 

"Not as far as we can tell. It would probably be safe for us to stay here until morning." 

"No. Don’t do that. Get a taxi. It’ll cost a great deal. Do you have English money?" 

"Yes. I’ve just been to the exchange. Money’s not a problem." 

"Okay. Get a taxi to this address." He gave the address. "I’ll wait up for you to arrive." 

"Thank you Aya-kun." 

"I’ll see you in about an hour. Shouldn’t take longer than that for you to get here." He turned off the phone and hauled himself out of bed. Pulling on a robe as he went, he headed downstairs to the kitchen only to be bought up short by the light streaming from the doorway. He shrugged and entered the room to find Ken sitting at the table and nursing a mug of coffee. 

"Is there more of that?" 

Ken gave a start and turned to see who had disturbed his reverie. "Oh, Aya. Yeah, there’s coffee in the pot still." 

Aya crossed the kitchen to the machine and poured himself a mug. "You’re up late." 

Ken shrugged. "Couldn’t sleep. I’ve got too much on my mind. Anyway, what’s got you out of bed?" 

Aya joined him at the table and sipped at his coffee. "Takatori and Naoe are on their way here from the airport. I said I’d wait up to let them in." 

"Damn! As if I didn’t have enough problems." 

Aya raised one crimson brow, wondering what problems Ken was thinking about. He understood that the arrival of Takatori Mamoru and Naoe Nagi were likely to cause the brunet pain, but Ken hadn’t known they were coming here until just now. He wouldn’t pry, though. He never did. Just waited until people told him what they wanted him to know. 

"Do you hate Schuldig?" 

Where the hell had that come from? "I don’t like him very much. I remember too well that he was involved in the kidnap of my sister and what he tried to do to Sakura-chan. I know that he and Crawford helped us out that last time but I can’t trust him yet." 

Ken nodded as if he’d been expecting that sort of answer. "I’ve been around him the last few days and he seems to have changed a lot, you know." 

Aya had to admit to himself that Ken’s words were true. The telepath had changed. Being on the run from Rosenkreuz seemed to have knocked some of the arrogance out of him. As to whether the change of heart was permanent, only time would tell. "You always were too trusting." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ken resumed the study of his coffee. 

Aya drank some of his own coffee and glanced at the kitchen clock. Another forty-five minutes and all hell might just break loose. "Are you going to be okay with Naoe?" 

"What? Oh, maybe. I’m not sure. He’s not that fond of me, either." 

Whatever it was on Ken’s mind, obviously had more to do with Schuldig than with Naoe, Aya realised with a frown. As if their lives weren’t complicated enough already. Since Schuldig had done whatever it was he’d done to Yohji’s head, the blond had been remembering more by the hour and seemed more emotionally involved with his memories. Of course, that meant he was even more determined for them to get back on their old footing and become lovers again. Aya still wasn’t sure that he could do that even though…no! He was not even going to go down that road. Yohji was best kept as a friend. So why did he keep remembering that sweet kiss at the Red Roof Inn? He shook his head, sighed and took another sip of coffee. 

"Looks like I’m not the only one with stuff on his mind." 

"Hn. Probably not." 

"I know it’s none of my business, but you and Yotan always seemed good for each other somehow." 

"Good for each other? We nearly ended up killing each other! And you’re right, it is none of your business." 

"Fine, then." Ken subsided into huffy silence. 

Aya sighed. "I’m going to regret this, I know, but how were we good for each other?" 

Ken looked up and thought for a moment. "Yesterday Yohji asked me if he had changed. I said that he hadn’t except that his smile was real. It seems like it was more real when he was around you. Well, until things went to hell in a handbasket." 

"And he was good for me how…?" 

"Oh, that’s simple. You were more human when he was around." 

Aya glanced round the kitchen, hoping that Yohji had left his cigarettes down here. Suddenly, he felt the overwhelming need for one of them. Damn Ken and his observations and damn Yohji for being…Yohji. He spotted the packet on a counter and stood up, growling that he was going to get some fresh air. He grabbed the pack and lighter on the way. 

Ken followed him into the back garden. "Fresh air, huh?" 

"Shut. Up." 

* * * * * * * 

Mamoru paid off the taxi driver and glanced up at the house. It was dark and quiet and he wondered if Aya had waited up after all. He opened the gate that led into the tiny patch of front garden and was just about to knock on the door when a light went on and the door opened. Aya stood there frowning at him and Nagi. 

"Aya-kun." He started to smile then stopped. Had too much passed between them for them to be friends anymore? 

Aya held the door open for them to enter the house then closed it behind them. There was a light on at the back of the house and Aya led the way towards it. It turned out to be a large and homely kitchen with Ken seated at a table in the centre of it. He glanced up as they entered and stood up. 

"Well, I’m going back to bed," he said and brushed past them without saying anything further. Mamoru didn’t know what to do so he simply stood there and let Ken go. 

"I made some tea if you want some." Aya’s deep voice brought his attention back to the present and he nodded thankfully. 

"Yes, please." 

Aya poured three cups of tea and sat down at the table. Nagi followed his example and finally, Mamoru sat down also. The silence was almost deafening. 

"Are Schuldig and Yohji-kun asleep?" He asked the question more for something to say than from any real desire to know. Aya didn’t even look at him as he nodded. 

"Did Schuldig…?" 

"Yes. It worked to an extent." 

He frowned at that. "What do you mean by an extent?" 

"Yohji still only remembers bits and pieces, but he now knows that they really are his memories and not some sort of movie playing in his head." 

"It didn’t help him retrieve more, then?" 

"Some, not much, though Schuldig seems to think that more will come back with time" 

"Good." 

They lapsed into silence again and Mamoru sighed softly. He was considering booking into a hotel in a few hours when Aya spoke again. 

"We made you up a bed in the spare room. It’s a double so you should be comfortable." 

"Thank you, Aya-kun. We appreciate your taking us in at such short notice." Gods, he sounded so formal. Only a year or so before he would have thrown his arms round the older man. Okay, so the embrace would have been simply tolerated rather than welcomed but it would have been better than this. 

Aya shrugged and sipped his tea. "Where else could you have gone? They’ll be watching all known Kritiker agents." 

Mamoru nodded his understanding. Only he and Nagi knew of Aya’s existence and Yohji would be considered an ex-operative. Ken had only just left prison and had come straight here. Even Rex hadn’t known where they were or even that they still worked for him. He just hoped it was enough. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken wondered how they were going to survive the arrival of his boss and Naoe. Mamoru wouldn’t even look at Schuldig. Nagi wouldn’t look at him, which was fine as he found it just as hard to look at the telekinetic. Aya was silent and watchful and Yohji, after having recognised Nagi as the young man from the hospital, was not remembering anything, deliberately in Ken’s opinion. To say that breakfast was horrific was an understatement. 

He gulped his food down, as quickly as he could, trying to get away from the tense atmosphere. Strange how the house had been ‘home’ when it had just been Schuldig and him. After the initial distrust, it had settled back after Aya and Yohji had arrived. Now, he thought, it might never settle again. 

Breakfast eaten, Ken escaped into the garden. Yohji and Schuldig soon followed him, both wanting cigarettes. 

"Well, this is going to be fun," Schuldig observed. "Even Nagi isn’t speaking to me." 

Yohji studied his smoke for a moment. "The kid’s caught between a rock and a hard place. He’s fond of you but doesn’t want to upset Omi." 

And that reminded Ken of something else that had irritated the hell out of him at breakfast. "Yeah, that really helped the atmosphere, Yotan! Omi, this and chibi, that. He’s not Omi anymore." 

"It’s all I know him as, Kenken. Just don’t remember him being this stiff and formal, like someone stuck a two by four up his ass. The Omi I knew would have given me a hug by now." 

Schuldig chuckled but Ken was worried. "We’re all supposed to be on the same side, so why doesn’t it feel that way." 

"Perhaps because nobody is prepared to give it a chance. Anyway, they’ve only been here a few hours. Give it time." Schuldig didn’t seem too worried and Yohji nodded his agreement. 

"We just need to adjust to each other and the fact that two of us were once on the other side." 

And one of those two was cosy with Ken’s ex-lover while the other… Damn! He couldn’t be getting that fond of Schuldig could he? 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller’s reaction to the young Kritiker boss vanishing had been pretty much what Andrews and Dubois had expected but his fury had abated somewhat when they’d told him of the dent in the desk. So Naoe was with Takatori was he? Which meant that Kritiker was probably protecting Schuldig, too. Ordering the two men to stay in Japan, just in case either of the missing young men turned up, he put down the phone and thought carefully for a while. It was time to talk to Crawford again. 

He made his way out of his office and traversed the Rosenkreuz building until he reached a particular locked door. He smiled to himself as he unlocked the door and released the constraints on Crawford’s talent. Stepping inside the room he watched with cruel amusement as the precog arched in pain as vision after vision assailed him. 

When the visions ceased and Crawford slumped back, he crossed the room to stand over the precog. "You should have enough information now to tell me where Kudoh and the rest of Schwarz are." 

Crawford moaned but managed to spill out one word. "London." 

* * * * * * * 

"London." The word had almost been torn from his lips and Crawford knew he’d betrayed both Schuldig and Nagi with that one word. Dietmeiller was so excited that he almost ran from the room, presumably to contact Rosenkreuz agents in London. It was only after the pain of so many visions at once had subsided that he realised that the bastard had forgotten to reinforce the dampening constraints on his talent. 

Surely that meant that he could reach Schuldig through the old Schwarz link. Trying to think through the pain he sorted through the visions he’d received. Ah! There it was. He smiled to himself as he realised that things had already started to go wrong for Rosenkreuz and Dietmeiller. Kudoh was getting his memory back. Now, if he could just get that other vision to become reality. He smiled as he realised the best way to do just that.


	10. Adjustments

"Could you pass me the salt, please, chibi." Yohji ignored the snicker from Schuldig, the glare from Nagi, and the combined sighs from Ken and Aya, as he waited for Omi to pass him the condiment. 

"Yohji-kun! It may have escaped your notice, but I am no longer a child." 

Yohji grinned at him. "Ah, but you’ll always be ‘chibi’ to me, Omi." 

"Technically, that’s not even my name anymore." 

Yohji stopped grinning and leaned forward. "As I remember things, your father gave you the name of Tsukiyono Omi so why do you insist on bearing the name your bastard of an uncle saddled you with?" 

"It was my grandfather’s wish and I owed him that much after he saved Aya and you." 

"You owed him nothing." Yohji could feel his temper rising. "He never lifted a finger when you were kidnapped and he allowed your father to believe he was raising his nephew as an assassin. Be yourself, for fuck’s sake!" 

Omi stiffened in his chair. "I had to take over as Persia. I had to keep the rest of you safe." 

"Yeah? Well, frankly kiddo, you did a lousy job of it. Ken ended up in prison, I got my head fucked with and you almost got Aya killed." 

"Yohji." Aya’s deep voice, warning him, trying to shut him up. Why the hell should he? The little shit had split Weiss up, dumped and hurt Ken, sent him away from Aya. Deciding he wasn’t hungry after all, he stood up, grabbed his smokes, and headed for the back garden to cool off. 

He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. Part of his mind, the part that was still dumb enough to try to make a home, thought that a bench or patio set would be perfect out here. He snorted humourlessly at the thought. He’d been offered all that as ‘Ito Ryo’ but had turned it down and gone looking for the missing part of him. He'd found it when he found Aya again. 

Thoughts of Aya immediately brought him back to the present. Since Schuldig had done whatever it was in his head, his memories had started to return more quickly. He still knew that he only had bits and pieces, but there was more substance to them now. Part of his childhood had returned, his downtrodden mother and drunken, abusive father. Him trying to save his mother from beatings until the day he’d returned from school to find her beaten bloody and his father gone. She hadn’t survived the night and he’d left school and made his own way in the world. He knew that his inability to save her had made him very protective of all women and he remembered courageous, doomed Maki with both pain and affection. 

There had been talk of another woman, apparently his partner, from Aya, but he simply couldn’t bring her to mind at all. Maybe she hadn’t been that important, that Asuka. He shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. 

His days, and nights, with Weiss were coming back although he hadn’t retrieved as much about Aya as he wanted. Aya. Always his thoughts returned to the beautiful man. He knew there had been more between them than Aya would say. He could tell the man cared for him, although he wasn’t sure how he knew, yet the bastard insisted on holding him at arms length. It was both frustrating and infuriating. 

A slight noise brought him back to a sense of his surroundings and he looked up to see Aya himself, gazing at him thoughtfully. He smiled but the expression wasn’t returned, instead Aya sighed. 

"Do you have to pick on him, Yohji?" 

He stiffened, his anger returning. "I wasn’t aware that I was picking on him. I thought I was treating him the way I always did." 

Aya nodded. "Yes, you are. But he’s not the person he was when you treated him that way." 

"Yeah, well. I don’t like what he’s become. And don’t try to tell me that you do, because I know you don’t." 

"No, I don’t, but there’s nothing I can do to change him back. If we survive this, he might come to realise that he’s found one family but lost another. Give him time." 

"You always were the observant one. If it keeps you happy, I’ll lay off. I’ll bow and call him Takatori-san." 

Aya sighed. "Yohji…" 

He stubbed out his cigarette and shrugged indifferently. He really didn’t give a damn about Omi’s feelings right now. "If it makes you happy, I’ll behave." 

Those purple eyes narrowed. "This isn’t about me, it’s about him." 

"Yeah, but he’s got Nagi to take care of him. Who have you got?" He watched as Aya bristled. 

"I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Kudoh!" 

Yohji nodded to himself. It was the answer he’d been expecting though he knew, deep down that it was false, wrong. "I always used to watch your back on missions." 

There was a flash of pain and then anger. "Really? Then why did Nagi need to save my ass on the last one?" Aya turned and swept back into the house. 

Yohji sighed and lit another cigarette. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken was watching soccer on the portable television in his bedroom when there was a knock at the door. He bade whoever it was to enter and turned to see Mamoru come through the door. It was the last person Ken had expected to see so he just gaped at his boss. 

"Am I disturbing you, Ken-kun?" Mamoru’s voice sounded wistful. 

"No, not really. It’s not a great game." He switched off the soccer and gestured to the chair, inviting his guest to sit down. "What can I do for you?" 

Mamoru took a deep breath. "I know it’s hard, Nagi and I showing up here the way we have. I know there will be a period of adjustment. It would help if you could forgive Nagi for something that happened after you left for Europe." 

Ken fought hard to retain a hold on his temper. "It’s not Nagi that I can’t forgive, it’s you. You’re the one who hurt me, not him. You sold us all out for the Takatori name and position." 

Mamoru flinched. "So it’s me that you hate?" 

"I don’t hate you, Om…Mamoru. I’m just hurt. I loved you, you know? But that wasn’t enough for you. I’ve had time to get over it but seeing you again brought it all back. I’ll get over it." He wondered why he wasn’t quite as upset as he’d expected to be. 

"I hope you will. We need to show a united front if we’re to survive against Rosenkreuz. They’ll take advantage of the slightest weakness. Will you speak to Nagi?" 

Ken shrugged. "Will Nagi speak to me? Seems to me that he’s still finding it hard to forgive me." 

"I’ve spoken to him about that and he’s prepared to try if you are." 

"Okay. I’ll try speaking to him." 

"Thank you, Ken-kun." Mamoru went quiet for a few moments. "Are Aya and Yohji…?" 

Ken shook his head. "No, I don’t think so. At least, not so far. That’s something else you screwed up." 

"No. Aya actually wanted me to split them up. He was concerned that they were getting too close." 

"For a bright man you can be incredibly dense at times. I thought I was supposed to be the oblivious one. They already were close. I know Aya was in denial, still is, but if two people loved each other it was them." 

"And now?" 

"I think Yohji wants to revive things, but Aya’s not playing." 

"It’s perhaps for the best. Ken-kun, do you trust Schuldig?" 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to answer that. His feelings towards the German were extremely confused. He liked him, perhaps more than liked him, but trust was different to attraction. Then he remembered something. "He doesn’t try to read my mind, at least, as far as I can tell. I mean, I don’t think he can help himself with the surface thoughts but he’s never even attempted any manipulation." 

"I just can’t forget what he did. It’s not just Ouka, it’s the way he manipulated Sakura-chan into trying to kill Aya-kun." 

"If I can try with Nagi, I think you need to try with Schuldig. He did help Yohji and he saved you as well as Nagi from Rosenkreuz." 

Mamoru sighed. "I think you may be right. I’ve just received information from Japan. They murdered Rex, Ken-kun, simply destroyed her with a mental blast." He sighed and for once looked every one of his twenty years. "I will try to trust Schuldig. We do need his skills so very badly. I can’t make any promises but I will try." 

* * * * * * * 

*Schu?* 

*I’m here, kid.* 

*Where can we talk alone?* 

*Garden’s free now and I want a smoke. Will Takatori let you out of his sight for that long?* 

*I’m not his prisoner, Schu.* 

*I know. But you have to admit, he’s very protective of you.* 

*What do you expect of someone called Mamoru?* 

*Mein Gott! Humour yet! I’ll be in the garden, Nagi.* 

Schuldig cut the link and smiled to himself. At least the kid still seemed to be his friend. He had wondered. He strolled into the garden and lit up. Nagi joined him just a few moments later. 

"He’s prepared to let you speak to me, at least?" 

Nagi shrugged. "It’s hard for him, Schu." 

Schuldig sighed. "Yeah, I know. I never thought, back then, that I’d have to rely on him one day." 

"I did try to warn you, but none of you ever listened to me." 

"Nagi, if all you wanted was a bitching session, go back indoors." It was the last thing Schuldig needed right now, to be reminded of his sins. 

Nagi shook his head and smiled slightly before hugging Schuldig. "I missed you." 

"Missed you, too, kid." Schuldig returned the hug. "I can see he looked after you. You look good. I like the hairstyle, by the way." 

Nagi actually grinned at that. "Yours looks better, too. Tidier." 

Schuldig poked his tongue out at his young friend. "I got tired of all the accessories the old style needed." He became serious once more. "I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, all of us in the same house. If they find one of us, they’ve found us all." 

"Yeah. We really need a few of Brad’s visions, right now." 

Schuldig thought sadly of his erstwhile leader and friend. "You can say that again. So, is your boyfriend intent on fighting all of us or is he going to see sense and realise he can’t run an empire from here?" 

Nagi frowned. "He’s confused. While he didn’t see the rest of Weiss he was doing okay. A bit of a control freak but nothing I couldn’t handle. Now…now he’s upset. I never stopped to realise before, but Weiss developed similar ties to us except without the link. He still thinks of them as his ‘family’ while they now think of him as the boss." 

Schuldig dropped his cigarette and trod on it. "What did he expect? He pulled away from them, split them up. I’m sorry, Nagi, but he brought a lot of this on himself." 

"Yeah, I know. Question is, what, if anything, do we do about it?" 

Schuldig sighed. It was time to tell the kid the truth. "Nagi, I may not be a precog, but I do know this. Sooner or later Rosenkreuz are going to track us down. When that happens we’re going to face the biggest fight of any of our lives. We’ll have to depend on each other and trust each other if we’re to survive. As things stand, we’re going to lose and lose badly. You, Kudoh and I will become good little agents after a world of pain. The others will simply be killed. We have to do something. Only problem is, I haven’t a clue what that something is." 

"I can try to forgive and forget what Hidaka did but I’m not sure if he can forgive me for ‘stealing’ his boyfriend." 

Schuldig nodded thoughtfully. For the supposed hothead of the team, Ken was often the friendliest and most reasonable. "It’s worth a try. Kudoh is fine with me but he’s giving your lover hell, right now. I can’t really blame him as he doesn’t really remember him as the boss. I think that’ll calm down though." 

"And Fujimiya?" 

Schuldig grimaced. Abyssinian wasn’t the type to forgive and forget even though he seemed to have come to terms with himself. "I don’t know, kid, I just don’t know." 

* * * * * * * 

Mamoru felt the need for calm after his conversation with Ken so he headed into the pretty walled garden at the back of the house. Yohji was out there, smoking as usual and Mamoru pursed his lips in disapproval. "I was hoping you’d forgotten that addiction." 

Yohji turned and gazed at him. "I guess some things stay with you, like the ability to speak Japanese or English." He fidgeted for a moment or two. "Aya seems to think I owe you an apology." 

Mamoru shrugged. "It must be difficult for you. After all, you remember a sixteen year old schoolboy, don’t you?" 

"I also remember a terrified eighteen year old, trying hard to save his family after we took on Shion. After that, it gets blurry." 

"I’m still trying to take care of you. I just do it differently now." Yet still a part of him longed to be the ‘chibi’ of Yohji’s memory. 

"Maybe you need to be closer to us. Keep a personal eye on us." 

"I don’t know, Yohji-kun. Can any of us really go back?" 

Yohji shook his head. "Do any of us want to go back? No, we can only go forward and hope we’ve learned from our mistakes." 

"I don’t know if this is the right time for this, but I have something that once belonged to you." He reached into a pocket and drew out the watch he’d brought with him from Japan. 

Yohji’s reaction was not quite what he’d expected. He reached out for the watch almost eagerly. "I’d wondered where it was." 

Mamoru gazed up at him sadly. "Are you sure you want this, and all that goes with it, again?" 

Yohji nodded. "I’m going to need it if I’m going to watch Aya’s back. I never intend to let him down again." 

* * * * * * * 

Nagi wandered into the kitchen, wondering if he was entitled to make himself a drink. He came to a halt, just inside the door, as he spotted Ken making coffee. Taking a deep breath, he murmured a hello. 

Ken turned and nodded at him. "You want some coffee?" 

"Yes, please. Thank you." He sat at the table, chin rested on his hands, and watched as Ken poured the beverage and placed a mug before him before sitting down opposite. He let the silence stretch out for a few minutes as he studied the other brunet. Then both of them said, "do you…" at the same time. "Go on." 

"You first." 

Nagi rolled his eyes. "Okay. Do you hate me?" 

"Funny, I was going to ask you the same question. No, I don’t hate you. What about you?" 

"I found it hard to forgive what you did at the orphanage. Oh, I know, intellectually at least, that she deserved to die, but emotionally, it hurt. She was like a mother to me. But, having said that, if you hadn’t killed her, she would probably have sold me and Crawford would never have found me. I can’t hate you anymore." 

"Do you actually care about O…Mamoru?" Ken was glaring at him now. 

He deliberately looked Ken in the eye as he answered. "Yes, very deeply." 

Ken stared back for a moment before nodding. "Okay. That’s all I really needed to know." 

Ken smiled then, and it was such an infectious expression that Nagi found himself responding. He actually smiled back, if somewhat shyly. "I believe you still owe me a game of soccer." 

Ken chuckled. "You’re right, I do. Do you think we could persuade any of the others to join us?" 

* * * * * * * 

Aya had spent the day avoiding all of them as much as he could. He sighed to himself as he realised he was repeating old behaviour patterns but he didn't know what else to do. Schuldig still bothered him, he didn’t know how to act around Mamoru, and Yohji was still trying to get him into bed. Dinner was likely to be fraught with tension. 

It came as quite a surprise, when he turned up for the meal, to find that things had changed considerably since breakfast. Yohji, unsure of what to call Takatori, was carefully calling him nothing at all but had ceased treating him like a child, while Ken and Nagi were so far from ignoring each other as to be trying to talk everyone into a game of soccer. 

Aya turned down the soccer without any hesitation whatsoever and ate his dinner in silence aware, the whole time, of Yohji’s eyes on him. Finally, unable to take it any longer he looked up and glared at the blond. "What?" 

"You seem a bit tense. Are you okay?" Yohji’s eyes were full of concern. 

"I’m fine." 

He’d been so bothered by Yohji’s scrutiny that he’d failed to notice first Schuldig and then Mamoru agree to the game of soccer. Ken was ecstatic, of course, and after dinner the four of them trooped out of the house to head for the local park. 

He started on the dishes, somewhat surprised when Yohji started drying them. 

"I can manage." 

Yohji shrugged. "Just thought it might speed things up. Besides, I wanted to ask why you’ve been avoiding me since this morning. Since we’ve been in London, really." 

"I haven’t been avoiding you." That wasn’t strictly true. He’d kept his distance, afraid of both Yohji and his own feelings. 

Yohji snorted in derision. "I thought you’d got over all the denial crap." 

"Yohji…I simply can’t see the point in us getting physically involved again. Sooner or later you’ll start going out to clubs and looking for women. I’m happy to be your friend, but that’s all." 

Yohji shook his head and sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you that women don’t interest me? I’ll do whatever I can to protect them, but that’s about it. You do interest me. I can’t believe I let you go or let you send me away, whichever it was." 

It was Aya’s turn to sigh. "Yohji, please, this doesn’t help either of us." 

"Why not? What’s got you so scared, Aya?" 

"I’m tired of being hurt by you!" Where the hell had that come from? He had actually shouted at Yohji, feelings he’d thought long dead and buried exploding into life. 

Yohji leaned forward, effectively trapping him against the sink. "I’ll never hurt you again." Then he was being kissed. His arms reached round Yohji and pulled him even closer as he returned the kiss. It was several minutes before they broke it off, finally needing oxygen. 

"Let’s take this upstairs," Yohji suggested and all he could do was nod his agreement. 

* * * * * * * 

Yohji couldn’t believe his good fortune. Aya had actually given in to his feelings, and agreed to try again. He caught hold of Aya’s hand and all but dragged him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Once there, he turned and kissed the beautiful man again. This time Aya didn’t hesitate, kissing him back just as passionately. 

When they came up for air Yohji crushed Aya to him. "Gods, I’ve fucking missed you." 

Aya snorted softly. "Missed me or missed fucking me? Anyway, until a week ago you didn’t even remember me." 

"True, but I now remember spending a lot of time without you. And yes, to both." 

"Yotan, shut up." Aya reached up and kissed him again which he didn’t mind one little bit. 

He edged them towards his bed and bent Aya back until they landed on it in a controlled fall. His hands ran down Aya’s sides and then back up, taking his sweatshirt with them and exposing the creamy expanse of Aya’s chest. "So beautiful." 

Aya stared up at him, violet eyes intent. "And you’re not?" 

Yohji shrugged. "No, Aya, you’re the beauty, not me." He sat up and stripped off his shirt wanting to feel skin against skin. Aya, meanwhile, pulled his sweatshirt over his head and slid it down his arms. Yohji threw both shirts onto the floor and started on the button of Aya’s jeans. Aya was trying to return the favour and they ended up in a tangled heap, Aya actually chuckling. 

Yohji grinned back at him and sat up to remove his own shoes and pants. There was movement behind him and he turned to find Aya naked and blushing slightly. His eyes widened at the beauty spread before him and suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of desire and possessiveness. He leaned forward to plunder those tempting lips once more before moving down that lush, pale skin to give attention to Aya’s pink nipples. 

Moving further down, he took Aya’s elegant member into his mouth. He gasped as the taste brought back wave upon wave of memories of the two of them lost in the mystery of each other. He pulled back and stared, wide-eyed at his lover. 

"And you wanted to deny us…?" He couldn’t get his mind round the thought and sat up, running a hand through his hair. 

Aya frowned at him before sighing. "I never intended for it to go as far as it did; to get so involved." 

"We’re damned well involved, whether you like it or not!" 

Aya sat up and reached for his clothes. "This wasn’t a good idea. I think I should go." 

"Oh no, you’re not going anywhere." He grabbed the reaching arm and used it to pull Aya close again, kissing him savagely. He was almost surprised when Aya returned the kiss and relaxed in his arms. He bent him onto his back again and attacked his neck, sucking at the jugular until he’d left a mark. 

Aya’s legs came up round his waist and he smirked at the apparent submission. He remembered enough now to know that this, of all men, never really submitted. Sex between them had always been an equal thing. This was just Aya’s way of saying that this time he could be the seme. 

He reached out and pulled open the nightstand drawer, extracting a plastic tube of lubricant, without once moving away from Aya's neck. Coating his fingers generously, he worked one into his lover’s body. Tight, clenching heat greeted it and a gasp from Aya. He added a second finger and scissored them, gently stretching the tight opening. A third was added and he smiled when a low moan indicated that he’d found Aya’s sweet spot. 

Aya was writhing beneath him, impaling himself as far as he could on his fingers. The sight made Yohji realise that he could wait no longer and he pulled away to coat himself with the lubricant. Aya hissed until he pushed forward again, replacing his fingers with his cock. "You ready?" 

There was an abrupt nod and a glare from his lover which made him smile. He was obviously ready. He eased slowly forward, gradually pushing himself into the welcoming warmth of Aya’s body. It was like coming home after too long away and he moaned with the sheer rightness of it. Once fully seated he stopped, trying not to be overwhelmed with sensation. Beneath him, Aya whined and moved his hips, encouraging him to move. 

Moaning slightly himself, Yohji pulled back only to press forward once again. He built up the rhythm slowly and steadily, his hand pumping his lover in tempo, until Aya’s hands clenching at his butt urged him to go deeper, faster, harder. In no state to argue, he complied with the unspoken demand and was rewarded by Aya shuddering and gasping as he came over their stomachs and his hand. That led to his own release and he collapsed against his lover, completely sated. 

Once he regained his breath, he eased off of Aya and rolled onto his back, pulling his lover with him. It was then that he noticed that he wasn’t the only one growing out hair dye. There was about a half inch of crimson at the roots of Aya’s hair which, he was certain, had not been there when they’d been in New York. 

The flash of a waist-length braid and the speed with which it had grown struck him along with several other, more recent memories. None were of him, though. All of them centred round the man in his arms. His eyes widened as he suddenly got a strong wave of emotion from Aya, a strange mixture of love and self-loathing. 

"Aya? Are you okay?" 

There was a sleepy grunt and a muttered, ‘yes,’ but nothing more. Yohji used his discarded shirt to clean them both off before pulling Aya close. The man snuggled closer and sighed, already half asleep. Yohji smiled to himself and settled for sleep himself, only to snap wide awake when he ‘felt’ the others return. Ken and Schuldig were elated at having won their game, Omi and Nagi disgruntled at losing. Now how the hell could he possibly know that? Yet, at the same time he knew it was true. Frowning slightly, he fell asleep again. 

His dreams were full of images that he somehow knew were memories. Three old people trying to sacrifice a dark-haired girl that was Aya’s sister yet wasn’t, nearly drowning as the building they were in broke up and sank into the sea, a strong hand grabbing him and pulling him above water, tangling Omi in his wires, Ken swiping at him with his bugnuks, dropping a dead man over the side of a boat, desperately getting a dying Aya to safety. More and more images battered him throughout the course of the night until, exhausted, he woke up to find his memories virtually intact. He knew there were still a few small gaps, but nothing that mattered. 

Excited, he turned to wake Aya, to let him know. Then he remembered just how he’d been pushed away and the hurt swamped him. Careful not to disturb his sleeping lover, he climbed out of bed, pulled on a robe, and headed to the bathroom. He showered and dressed and slipped out of the house. He would take a leaf out of Aya’s book and walk until he got his head straight. 

* * * * * * * 

"Dietmeiller here… What?… Where?… Grab him and bring him to Germany. Leave him intact though. If he’s harmed in any way it’ll be your hides, do you understand?" He replaced the phone and chuckled softly. Kudoh would soon be here and he would be half way towards his goal. 

* * * * * * * 

Down in his cell, Crawford smiled. The right visions were falling into place.


	11. Capture

Yohji had no idea where the hell he was going. All he could think about right now was how the man he loved more than life itself had pushed him away so heartlessly. But, then again, had it really been so heartless? There was no denying the love he’d felt from Aya last night even though it had been confused with some other, darker emotion. He had obviously hurt the man very badly, he just couldn’t remember how. It was the only real gap he had in his memory, apart from his old partner, and it was really beginning to piss him off. 

He was also very confused by the way he was picking up on everyone’s emotions. What the hell was that all about? Was that part of whatever had been done to him? 

_Calm down, Kudoh, and think rationally._ If this empathy for other people’s emotions was part of what had been done to him, perhaps retrieving the memories that had been used against him might make a difference. He tried to remember his time as a private detective and found that most of it came easily, only his female partner was missing from his recollections. Schuldig had said something about them using his emotions against him when the tampering was done. Did that mean they’d used his memories of her? 

That still made no sense. If they’d used his emotions, why hadn’t they made him forget Aya? Had he thought himself in love with this unknown woman at one time? Is that what had hurt Aya so much that he’d felt the need to push Yohji away in order to protect himself? Had he looked for his partner in other women as Aya seemed to think he had? And didn’t that beg the question of why he wasn’t interested in women now? 

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the car that drew up beside him or the man who got out of it and crept up behind him. The first thing that alerted him to something being wrong was the cloying sweetness of chloroform. By then a cloth full of the stuff was over his nose and mouth and he sank into darkness. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya awoke to find the bed empty of Yohji. Sighing, he threw back the covers and sat up. There had been so many mornings like this, over the years, where one or other of them had realised the futility of it all and simply left. What a fool he had been to give in to Yohji and his own desire. Seemingly it wasn’t just the blond who never learned. 

And yet Yohji had seemed so different in this last week since they had met again. There had been none of the fake humour, no women or clubs, very little drinking. It confused him enough to think that he might have misread the situation. Then he remembered Asuka and Yohji's quickly returning memories. What if the man had remembered the love of his life? He would want to get away from Aya and the memory of what had happened last night as quickly as he could. 

Slowly, Aya dressed and headed to his own room for clean clothes. Once there he stripped off and pulled on his robe before heading for the shower. 

Standing under the water, he berated himself for being all kinds of a fool. He’d had years of experience of Yohji’s blandishments yet, every time, he gave into his own pathetic desires and hurt himself even more. Well, last night was the last time. He would never give in again, never again lay himself open for such pain. 

He dressed, went downstairs, and entered the kitchen to find Ken, Nagi and Mamoru eating rice and miso. Ken glanced up and smiled. "There’s more in the pots if you want some." 

He shook his head and went into the garden instead. Schuldig was out there, smoking, and glanced up at his approach. There was a slight frown on the telepath’s face. "I got a barrage of images from Yohji earlier, is he okay?" 

"How the hell would I know?" _The bastard just left._

Schuldig shrugged. "I thought you might have seen him." 

"Not this morning." 

"I think he’s remembered a whole load of stuff all at once. There’s something else, though. I believe him to be a powerful empath and that his power has just kicked in with a vengeance. Right now I’m getting some very garbled thoughts and a lot of confusion." 

His temper snapped and he glared at Schuldig. "Do you do that a lot? Spy on our thoughts?" 

"Aya, when someone is broadcasting as strongly as Yohji is right now, I can’t help but hear them. Believe me, I’m trying to shield as best I can." His eyes widened slightly before they narrowed into the kind of look that Aya was used to seeing on his face. "He’s gone." 

"What do you mean, gone?" The pain and fear he felt surprised him. He’d only just found Yohji again, he couldn’t simply lose him so soon. 

"Suddenly I’m getting nothing from him. It’s as if he’s unconscious or something. Oh Mein Gott. I think they’ve found him. Rosenkreuz." 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller sat waiting for his blond, Japanese prisoner to wake up. It shouldn’t be long, his English agents assuring him that the dosage had been just enough to get the empath to Rosenkreuz headquarters in Germany. Sure enough, the flicker of eyelids heralded Kudoh’s return to consciousness. 

"Ah, welcome to Rosenkreuz. I do hope you are not too uncomfortable." 

Green eyes gazed up at him. "What the fuck…?" 

"To summarise, you are in Rosenkreuz Headquarters in Germany. The reason you are here is because you are an empath. That means you can read people’s feelings. With training you will be able to affect their feelings, cause acute pain or pleasure in them, persuade them that they were mistaken, make them hate themselves for pulling a weapon on you, so much that they throw the weapon away." 

"What the hell have you been sniffing?" 

"Nothing at all. Every word I’ve just spoken is the absolute truth." 

"Do you usually kidnap people who are out for a morning stroll?" 

"Only if they’re of use to us." 

"And if they don’t want to be of use to you?" 

"Then they are convinced of the error of their ways." He smiled at the young man. Spirit was good but Kudoh would learn, one way or another. 

"I’m going to take a lot of convincing." 

"That’s not a problem. Shall we make a start right now?" He was going to enjoy this. He loved making new agents suffer. 

* * * * * * * 

Yohji waited to see what would happen to him. He would rather die than betray his friends. 

There was a sudden pain in his head then a woman’s face. Somehow he knew it was his long lost Asuka. Another face, the same yet not the same, superimposed itself . Neu. He saw himself kill her as she proclaimed her love for another. It should have hurt him, should have given Dietmeiller what he needed to destroy him, but somehow it didn’t. Instead Aya’s name sounded in his head like a clarion call and the women were now seen through a veil of memory. Aya was of the here and now and safe from Dietmeiller’s manipulation. He had to keep it that way. "Okay, okay, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want." 

Dietmeiller smiled at him. "I knew you’d see reason. Very well, let’s get on with your training. Just remember that if you double-cross me in anyway whatsoever, I’ll use your lost love against you." 

That didn’t really worry him, although he managed to look suitably cowed. Just as long as Aya wasn’t lost to him forever he would get through this. "I get the idea. What’s the first lesson?" It suddenly occurred to him that anything he could learn could be used to fight Rosenkreuz and their evil training methods. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig threw his cigarette butt away and strode into the house, Aya hot on his heels. "They’ve got Yohji. That means that they’re here, in London." 

Nagi stared up at him, eyes wide, Ken swore and jumped to his feet while Takatori sat looking to Aya for answers. 

"Do they know that we’re here too?" Nagi asked. 

"I don’t know, kid, I simply don’t know. I dare not even try to read them just in case they think we’re somewhere else. It’s a possibility, considering our previous relationship to Weiss." 

"Do they know that Crawford sent Nagi to me?" Takatori’s voice was as cold as ice but he realised that, for once, it was not directed at him but at Rosenkreuz. 

"We tried very hard to make sure they didn’t know where he went, but we were at a severe disadvantage at the time. They were able to block both Crawford and myself because they had trained us." 

Aya had remained silent throughout, but his pain and fury was obvious to Schuldig. He was surprised when Aya asked quietly, "Did they train Farfarello?" 

He snorted derisively. "When Jei first arrived at Rosenkreuz he was a very talented psychometric. They destroyed that." Three blank looks and a surprised stare made him sigh and explain. "A psychometric picks up images, emotions and memories from objects. It can drive them crazy unless they’re well shielded. Jei’s natural shields were destroyed as a punishment. He defended himself by feeling nothing but it cost him his sanity." 

"Sister Ruth told us that he killed his family," Ken said slowly, "that his madness stemmed from that." 

He felt his temper rise at the suggestion. "And, of course, you believed her. He was nine years old, Ken, do you honestly believe he killed them? Two adults and a beloved little sister?" 

"But wasn’t Ruth his mother?" 

"That bitch was a Rosenkreuz operative. She fed him all those lies. Yes, he did attack her with the knife. He did cut open her hands. Do you want to know why? Because she’d just told him that his family’s deaths were the ‘will of God’ and that she was his mother. He didn’t lie to you when he told you he was the victim. She took him straight to Rosenkreuz." 

"She was so convincing…" Ken was obviously upset by his belief in the woman. 

"Of course she was. She actually trained as a nun just so Rosenkreuz could acquire Jei. That's how thorough they are." 

"Are they going to drive Yohji-kun as mad?" 

"I said this to Ken and now I’ll say it to the rest of you, the emotions they used against Yohji to wipe his mind were not the most important to him. He thought they were but deep down he felt more for someone else." He watched Aya’s eyes widen in surprise then shut on acute pain. "They will continue to use what they found, thinking it his only memory. If he can keep his mind on what really matters to him, and with his memories almost intact he can, then they shouldn’t drive him mad." 

"Does Farfarello hate them?" Ah, the little Takatori was over his shock and beginning to plan. He smiled slightly. 

"More than you could ever know. You think we fought the elders for the sake of it? You think we sent Nagi to you for fun? You think we let Jei go and try to find his own happiness for the sheer hell of it? He’d earned that happiness, fought hard for his freedom. We all did. You only ever saw us as your enemies and you were right to do so. If you had ever come between us and our dream of freedom we would have killed you without a thought." 

"You tried to often enough. Or have you forgotten Sakura?" 

He bowed his head in acknowledgement of Aya’s anger. "I’ve neither forgotten nor do I regret using her. Had I used one of your team-mates or another Kritiker agent, you would be dead. Besides, you always forget Crawford’s visions. He saw her wound you and saw Yohji disarm her. Hell, he even saw her swap places with your sister. He strengthened every future that had us free. Which is one of the reasons that all of you survived us. He kept seeing uses for you all." 

"With all due respect, this is getting us no closer to rescuing Yohji-kun. Would Farfarello, or Jei, whichever you prefer, be prepared to help us?" 

"Only if Crawford asked him to. He has no interest in Yohji’s fate but knows that Brad cares about those of us that were Schwarz." 

"So we can’t count on him. Okay, what can we do?" 

He caught Nagi’s eye. "Are you prepared to go up against them?" 

"If it means being totally free, then yes." 

He nodded. With Nagi being the least affected by Rosenkreuz and Yohji having a virtually intact memory they might just have some sort of chance. He opened his mouth to speak when a voice he knew very well indeed came through his head. 

*Schuldig, don’t ask questions as there isn’t much time. If you want to help Kudoh and I then you must come to Germany with Fujimiya. That is the only way that this will work. Nagi and the other Weiss will follow but you and Fujimiya must come first. Do you understand?* 

*Ja, Brad, I understand. Good to know you’re alive.* 

*I have to go. You and Fujimiya, don’t forget.* The link was cut abruptly. 

"What is it, Schu?" Nagi’s voice finally got through to him. He stared at the young man. 

"Crawford’s alive. Rosenkreuz have him, too. I need to go to Germany." 

"I’m coming with you." Aya’s tone was final. He nodded his agreement, not sure, at this moment, that he could speak at all. If they could retrieve Brad and use his visions they really would have a chance. 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford waited resignedly for Dietmeiller to arrive and punish him for sending a message but nothing happened for a long while. When the door finally did open, Kudoh came through it, closely followed by Dietmeiller. 

"Well, is he seeing any visions," the German demanded. Kudoh’s eyes went distant before he shook his head. 

"All I’m feeling from him is pain. You’re dulling his power, right?" 

"Very good. You see how much you can do with just people’s feelings to go by? Come, there is more that I can show you." Dietmeiller turned for the door but Kudoh stared down at him for a moment, his eyes trying to convey a message. Then he turned and followed Dietmeiller out of the room. 

It took him a few moments to realise what had happened and what Kudoh had been trying to tell him. Then it hit him. Kudoh had known he had his power and had kept quiet even though he must remember him as an enemy. He had even lied through his teeth to make sure that Dietmeiller still thought him helpless. That meant he must have somehow blocked the Rosenkreuz boss from picking up his message to Schuldig. For the first time in a very long time, Crawford actually smirked.


	12. Empath

Ken left the kitchen and headed straight for his room needing some time alone to think. He had to admit to himself that his feelings for Schuldig had been growing rapidly over the past week but now it looked like he stood no chance at all. 

The telepath had told them that Crawford, as well as Yohji, was in the hands of Rosenkreuz and that he had to go to Germany to rescue them. Ken couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Schuldig had warmer feelings for the American. He had come to realise over the last day or two that Schwarz had been as close and caring of each other as Weiss so it seemed logical to him that those feelings had been expressed as love. 

He had no illusions that, if it came to a choice between Crawford and himself, Schuldig would consider him. He had none of the sophistication of the American pre-cog and he felt sure that a man like Schuldig would find him boring. 

_Why would he even consider a dumb jock like you?_ The thought kept going through his mind. 

He beat up his pillow in frustration until he remembered that Yohji was still missing. It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself and start thinking about ways to get his friend back. He needed to go back downstairs and talk to Omi and Nagi. They had some plans to make. 

* * * * * * * 

Finally left to rest for a while, Yohji closed the door of the room he’d been given and sank down on the bed. He tried to reactivate his anger at Aya, but instead found himself reaching out to search for the other man’s emotions. There was a strong wash of anger and fear for him and his green eyes widened in surprise. He dug a little deeper and was stunned by the depth of Aya’s feelings for him. 

So why had the idiot pushed him away? He thought back to how he’d once been and found several answers. There had been the constant succession of women and his inability to move past Asuka. His stubborn belief in Neu, despite all evidence to the contrary, which had led to him helping to betray Aya and his team-mates. The drinking, the teasing and, at the end, the madness; no wonder Aya had felt the need to protect himself. 

He stretched out and allowed himself to relax, careful to keep his mind shielded from the others in the building. He wondered if he dared sleep or whether the sadists would plunder his dreams and discover the truth about his memory being intact once more. Sighing slightly, he realised he needed to sleep whether it was safe or not. As if agreeing with him, his eyes shut and the darkness overtook him. 

Strangely, he did not dream at all and awoke the next morning completely refreshed. Approaching footsteps heralded the arrival of Dietmeiller or one of his minions and Yohji waited calmly to see what was wanted of him this time. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya went upstairs to pack, attempting to push his anxiety to the back of his mind, to regain his mission focus. It wasn’t working. He had to admit, finally, that his feelings for Yohji were as strong, if not stronger, than ever. 

He sat on his bed and drew his katana onto his lap. Unsheathing it, he drew the razor-sharp edge across his left palm, hissing slightly at the sting. "I swear to you, Yohji, we will either survive together or die together. I will never leave you behind again." 

He held the blood in his fist for a moment or two, allowing his emotions to clear. This time, he was able to push his fears and anger to the back of his mind and regain his mission focus. There was work to be done. 

He bound his hand and finished his packing in a more settled and determined state of mind. Never mind that Rosenkreuz was almost totally composed of trained talents, Yohji was at stake here and he couldn’t let the man down again. 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller sat at his desk, deep in thought. Kudoh had proved himself both willing and eager to learn which said a lot for the idea of wiping a talent’s mind before training them. It was a bonus to find that Kudoh was such a strong empath. Until he had come along, they’d only considered the process for minor talents. Now, it seemed it was just as useful for major talents too. Had Crawford and Schuldig had their minds wiped they would never have turned against the organisation in the first place. 

Well, once he had the telepath and telekinetic in his grasp once more, he could wipe both their minds and Crawford’s. It was better than breaking them and perhaps destroying the very qualities he wanted to keep. But before that he had to find them. 

But what was he thinking? He now had a tame empath. Why not use him to find the other two? He had no reason to try escaping. He was totally Rosenkreuz now. 

Mind made up, Dietmeiller headed for Kudoh’s room. He found the empath sat on his bed, obviously rested. He smiled frostily and didn’t even wonder why Kudoh grimaced. He was used to his underlings having such reactions to him. 

"I have a job for you. You are to find the telepath, Schuldig and the telekinetic Nagi Naoe." 

Kudoh looked at him face blank. "Who the fuck are they?" 

"Ah, so they weren’t in London. If they had been, I’m certain they’d have sought you out. They hate you, you know. They’ll do whatever they can to hurt you." 

* * * * * * * 

Yohji knew the man believed his words, which meant he didn’t realise that Nagi and Schuldig had help. It also meant that he didn’t recognise that all the memories had returned. He found it difficult not to laugh in the man’s face. Instead, he managed to retain his air of total confusion. "Why would two people I don’t even know want to hurt me?" 

Dietmeiller frowned and said impatiently, "Because that’s what they do. They hurt people. It’s what they’re trained to do." 

Yohji frowned in his turn. If the man believed his words and Yohji’s what did he expect from him? "So how am I supposed to find them and bring them here?" 

"You find their emotions. Once you find them you twist them until they want, no need, to return here." 

Yohji nodded then asked, "So, I’m looking for hatred?" 

"Yes, you are. Hatred of Rosenkreuz." 

Yohji nodded again. "Okay. I’ll try." 

Dietmeiller ruffled his hair. "Such a good boy." 

Yohji found it hard to keep from flinching away from the touch. He could feel the lust radiating off the man. 

* * * * * * * 

"Exactly why do we have to stay behind?" 

Schuldig sighed. The little Takatori was determined to be difficult. 

"Because if you come with us we won’t succeed." He was trying to be patient, really he was. 

Takatori stood facing him like a little fighting cock, his hands on his hips and one foot tapping impatiently. "Is Crawford never wrong? I mean what if Rosenkreuz made him send that message so they could get their hands on you?" 

Schuldig sat down opposite Nagi and looked at Takatori. Rosenkreuz meddling was something he had considered, but Brad’s mental voice had been too hurried and fearful of discovery. He felt that a Rosenkreuz backed message would have been more relaxed in tone. Now he had to convince the two young men staring at him so expectantly. 

"I’ve never known Brad to misread a vision. Have you, Nagi?" His young friend shook his head. "I did consider Rosenkreuz forcing him to send the message, but two things made me realise that they didn’t. First, the tone of it, Brad had to send that message in a hurry and without being detected. Second, if Rosenkreuz had forced the send they would have wanted Nagi, not Aya. We need Aya and I to be there for some reason." 

Takatori nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Schuldig. "You would know best how your talents work and how your team interact. I just can’t sit here and do nothing." 

He thought about the other part of Brad’s message. "You don’t have to. Brad saw the three of you following us. Just give us a day’s start, okay?" 

The young man glared at him. "I’ve tried to forget your part in Ouka’s death and give you a chance. However, I warn you now, if anything happens to either Yohji or Aya, you’d better start running and never stop because I will find you and kill you." 

He felt himself smirk at the kid’s assumption that he could kill him. "You can try to kill me, by all means." He watched as Nagi first frowned at, then nudged Takatori with his gift hard enough that the Kritiker boss winced. 

"We’re supposed to be on the same side now,” the telekinetic said. “You would never say such a thing to Ken or to me." 

Giving the kid a mental cheer, Schuldig gazed at Takatori. "We made a deal, Takatori. I will not go back on it. Will you?" 

Takatori looked back at him steadily before slowly shaking his head. "I won’t go back on our deal." 

Schuldig rose to his feet. "I’ll go and pack, then."


	13. Baiting the Trap

Crawford’s vision showed him Dietmeiller heading towards his room and he quickly assumed the position and demeanour of a broken man. He knew he was going to be made to send a message through the Schwarz link and smiled to himself, knowing the important one had already been sent. 

He quickly wiped the smile from his face as the door opened. He let a low groan escape from his lips, prepared to bear the humiliation for a while longer if it meant his freedom in the end. 

Dietmeiller strode into the room and stood over him, obviously gloating. "I have a little job for you, Crawford. You are going to send a message to Schuldig and Naoe letting them know where you are and begging them to help you." 

He couldn’t believe the arrogance of the man. Yes, Dietmeiller was an excellent suppresser of talents, but due to his supreme belief in himself, he had failed to check Kudoh’s memory or will and had stupidly overlooked the need to leash his talent once more, after he’d last released his hold. "What’s the message?" 

"You will tell them that you are in danger and that they are to join you here." 

"You’ll need to release my talent and then let me rest for a minute or two." He knew he was going to be in a world of white noise again after he sent the message, but it was worth it. He had sent the important message and could only trust that the visions that led from Schuldig and Aya coming here would come to pass. 

"Of course." 

He arched up as if in agony and Dietmeiller smiled and waited for him to calm again. 

He came to rest once more, panting slightly. Perhaps he should have been an actor. 

"Are you ready to send the message, now?" 

He nodded, knowing that the Brain Butcher wouldn’t expect him to be able to talk yet. 

"Well get on with it then." 

* * * * * * * 

*Schu, Nagi, you have to listen to me. I am in great danger. You need to come to Germany to help me.* 

Schuldig’s eyes narrowed. Brad had used the old Schwarz code for ignore this. *No change of plan?* 

*No.* 

*Still Aya and me then?* 

*Yes. Plus one extra later.* 

* * * * * * * 

*Schu, Nagi, you have to listen to me. I am in great danger. You need to come to Germany to help me.* 

The one-eyed man stopped in his tracks letting the people on the busy street go round him. *What about me? I could help.* He felt amazement and then joy come through the Schwarz link and it made him smile. 

*Where the hell are you, Farf?* Schuldig. 

*Farfie?* Nagi. 

*Talk to Schuldig.* The boss man he’d happily die for. 

He felt Crawford leave the link but Schuldig and Nagi remained with him. He was surprised at how much he’d missed them. 

*Get bored with the woman?* Schuldig asked and he could feel the mental smirk. 

He shrugged, startling a passer-by. *News later. What’s wrong with Crawford?* 

The smirk vanished from the guilty one’s mental signature and Schuldig was all business. *Rosenkreuz have him. Where are you?* 

*I’m in Liverpool, looking for work. Do I go to Germany?* 

*Can you afford to?* Nagi was always so practical. 

*I still have money from Schwarz.* 

Schuldig’s voice came through again. *Excellent. Get a plane to Germany tomorrow. Nagi will meet you at Munich airport. And he will have two of Weiss with him.* 

Farfarello frowned and another passer-by gave him a wide berth. *Weiss? Why will they be there?* 

Schuldig sounded stern. *Because they’re on our side now. Try to remember that.* 

His frown deepened. *I’m a killer, not a half-wit.* 

*I know, I know. There will be plenty of Rosenkreuz agents for you to play with.* 

Farfarello smiled to himself. He would enjoy making them suffer. He was tired of being their victim. *I’ll be on the plane for Munich tomorrow.* 

*Look forward to seeing you again. Don’t kill anyone in the meantime.* 

*I can control myself, Schuldig. You take care of yourself.* 

* * * * * * * 

Aya closed Yohji’s suitcase, borrowed as it was large enough to carry his katana. He wondered if his lover had managed to keep hold of his watch and the wire hidden within it. With any luck, Rosenkreuz would consider it a normal watch as the man supposedly had no memory of what he had once been. 

He had also packed a couple of changes of clothes for Yohji as well as for himself. There was no telling how long this would take. 

A knock on his door broke into his thoughts and he bade whoever it was to enter. Schuldig poked his head round the door and asked if he was ready to go. He nodded abruptly. 

"There’s been a slight change of plan." 

Schuldig sounded uncomfortable and he wondered why. "Oh?" 

"Farfarello will be meeting Nagi and the others at Munich tomorrow." 

He glared at the telepath. "I warn you now, Schuldig, if you are trying to double-cross us…" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ll hunt me down and kill me. I’ve already had the whole lecture from Takatori." 

"Just as long as you’re clear on the subject." 

Schuldig gave him a long suffering look. "Perfectly. Shall we go?" 

He followed the telepath downstairs and then had to listen to last minute well wishes and admonitions to be careful from Ken, Takatori and Nagi when all he really wanted was to be out of the door and on his way. He sighed and said what they wanted to hear and then made for the door. 

"Aya-kun?" 

He sighed but turned back. "What now?" 

"This probably isn’t the time or the place, but I’d like you to know. It’s okay to call me Omi." 

He smiled despite the gravity of the situation. "I’ll tell Yohji. I think he’ll be as glad as I am." 

It was worth the slight delay to see his old smile once more transform Omi’s face. 

* * * * * * * 

Two hours later Schuldig was sitting next to an unresponsive Aya on a plane bound for Munich. He had always admired the mission focus that turned a stoic but perceptive young man into the cold, hard and unforgiving Abyssinian but some conversation would be nice. 

A quick glance at Aya’s profile convinced him that he would be better off reading the in-flight magazine. He reached forward for the booklet and started flipping through it. He nearly dropped it in shock when Aya spoke. 

"Why exactly is Farfarello coming to Germany?" 

Schuldig spoke without thinking. "He picked up a message from Brad. He has always idolised the man." 

"What message from Crawford?" Aya turned to look at him, his purple eyes as hard as amethysts. 

"One that he was forced to send. You should be aware that we are probably walking into a trap. However, it has to be you and me according to Brad’s vision. It might be something to do with Yohji’s intact memory, but that’s all I know." 

Aya digested this then spoke again. "Hn. Will Farfarello harm Ken or Omi?" 

Schuldig smiled at the other redhead. "No, definitely not, I’ve told him we’re all on the same side now and he doesn’t hurt his allies. Even if he did get…frisky, Nagi can control him." 

Aya sighed. "I’m just not used to working with visions." 

Schuldig could understand that and the Weiss redhead’s distrust so he attempted to explain further. "It’s really very useful, especially against Rosenkreuz. Since all this began, Nagi and I have felt like we were working blind. However, Crawford has seen something that helps us achieve our goal so believe me, you and I going to Germany before the others is essential to us regaining Yohji and Crawford and keeping our freedom." 

He was relieved when Aya simply nodded once and resumed staring out of the window. It didn’t help that he was praying that Crawford hadn’t got it wrong this time.


	14. The Trap Shuts

Nagi watched Schuldig and Aya drive away, his arm around Mamoru’s waist. Or was he Mamoru anymore? Nagi wondered if he was going to revert to being Tsukiyono Omi and if he was, whether he would love Omi the way he loved Mamoru. Then he noticed that Ken had disappeared. 

Wondering if his closeness to Mamoru had been the problem, he went searching for Ken to apologise. He’d come to like the athletic ex-Weiss and didn’t like to think he might have hurt him. 

He found Ken sat at the kitchen table, staring into space, with an unhappy expression on his face. 

"What’s up?" he asked. 

Ken gave a start and then attempted a smile. "Oh, hi Nagi, nothing’s up, why?" 

Nagi frowned. Ken was going to be difficult. "You seemed very deep in thought. It’s not me and Mamoru upsetting you, is it?" 

Ken looked confused. "What? Oh no. I’m happy for you both. I just wish…Nah, doesn’t matter." 

"You just wish…?" Nagi prompted. 

Ken looked up. "That I wasn’t so fucking stupid." 

"What makes you think you’re stupid?" Nagi busied himself making tea, rather than staring at Ken. 

"I’ve always been stupid. I fell for Kase and got betrayed, then I fell for Omi but it didn’t work out, now I’ve been even more stupid and fallen for Schuldig." 

Nagi almost dropped the teapot. "Schuldig?" 

Ken shrugged. "Yeah, dumb, huh?" 

Nagi thought about the aggravating telepath then realised he was actually fond of the German. "A little surprising, perhaps, but not dumb. You really find him attractive?" 

Ken nodded miserably. "Yeah, I do. And just like everyone else he couldn’t wait to get away from me. But then, I can’t really blame him for wanting to rescue someone he loves." 

Nagi set the pot and three cups down on the table, by now totally confused by what Ken was saying. "Are we still talking about Schuldig or are we onto Aya rescuing Yohji?" 

Ken looked at him as if he was crazy. "Schuldig, of course. Why on earth would I suddenly start talking about Aya?" 

He sat down and poured them both teas. "You were talking about someone he loves. I don’t think Schu loves anyone in Germany." 

Ken folded his arms across his chest. "Oh? What about Mr Bradley fucking Crawford then?" 

He couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. "Schu and Brad? Never in a million years." 

"Why is that so funny?" Ken was reaching the petulant stage. 

How could he best explain how the members of Schwarz had interacted? Weiss had been two rather odd couples while Schwarz had been more leader and followers. He sighed, knowing he had to try. 

"Do you find Kudoh’s teasing annoying?" 

Ken looked confused again. "Sometimes, what’s that got to do with anything?" 

"Well, Schu would follow Brad to the ends of the earth, because Brad has never led him wrong, but he would irritate him every step of the way. Schu teased all of us even Farfie, although he was more careful with him. I think Schu and Yohji are very alike in some ways. Brad always worked hard towards our freedom from Esset and Rosenkreuz and has very little patience for Shu’s teasing." 

Ken took a sip of his tea. "So what was all that chaos stuff about?" 

Nagi smiled understanding Ken’s confusion over that point. "If there was widespread chaos it would hide both our intentions and actions. It was a smoke screen, Ken. It made us look like good little agents, and hid our true desire to be free. Brad Crawford is the most ordered man I know." 

"I guess that makes sense. But it still doesn’t change anything. Schu wouldn’t look twice at me." 

Nagi saw his opportunity to bolster Ken’s ego. "Why not? You’re attractive, bright, fun to be with. He could do a lot worse." 

Ken stared at him, hope dawning in his eyes. "He’s really not in love with Crawford?" 

Nagi laughed at that. "No more than Yohji is with you. I’ll tell you something now, something you might find hard to believe but I’m certain it’s true. When Farfie left us for a woman called Sally, Brad was devastated. He never showed it, but Schu told me that he once said he would always carry Farfie in his heart. Now, when he’s in trouble, Farfie reappears and wants to help him." 

Ken looked a little sceptical. "The idea of Farfarello and anyone seems strange." 

Nagi frowned at that before he remembered that Ken didn’t really know Farfarello. "Why? Because Rosenkreuz drove him mad? When you get past the urge to kill, Farfie is just like anyone else. And even that urge receded when we escaped Esset and put him on the right medication." 

Ken took another sip of tea. "Still don’t see why Schu would be interested in me though." 

He sipped at his own tea and stared at the other brunet for a long moment, wondering if he should tell Ken what he’d noticed since coming to London. Ken’s unhappy face made him decide that he should. "I think he already is." 

Ken glanced up, his expression amazed. "You do? Why?" 

"I have never ever seen Schu let someone talk him into a game of soccer before." 

Ken grinned. "He did play, didn’t he?" 

Mamoru joined them at this point and Nagi poured him a cup of tea. "So, have you sorted Ken-kun out?" 

He shrugged. "I think so." 

Ken glanced from one youth to the other and buried his face in his hands. "Why do I always end up feeling like an idiot?" 

He exchanged grins with his lover. "Perhaps because you are one," he and Mamoru chorused. 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller grinned at the video screen. Schuldig had taken the bait. He had no idea who the other redhead was, but having Schuldig so nearly in his grasp was exhilarating. He suppressed Schuldig’s talent, gave the orders to his security to pick both men up and sat back to watch. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig edged forward, Aya only a step behind. They topped a low rise and the Rosenkreuz building came into view. Schuldig couldn’t help shuddering. Too many bad memories lay within those walls. A hand touched his arm and he calmed himself, strangely soothed by Aya’s calm, cold presence. "That’s it." 

Aya nodded, eyes narrowed. "Let’s go." 

They moved forward once more and Schuldig was just about to cross a clearing in the woodland they were traversing when Aya grabbed his shoulder. "I’ve got a bad feeling about this." 

The words were no sooner out of Aya’s mouth than Schuldig felt himself silenced. He wondered if Brad had finally got a vision wrong. "We need to get out of here!" He turned and dived back into the depths of the forest. 

He ran for several minutes, unable to use his enhanced speed, but still covering the ground quickly. When he thought it safe he turned to Aya, ready to suggest they try under cover of darkness, but Aya wasn’t there. 

* * * * * * * 

Instincts screaming at him to get as far away from that forbidding building as he could, Aya ran after Schuldig. There was a dull agony in the back of his head, then darkness. 

When he came to he was on a bed in a strange room. There was a tall man staring down at him, an expression of fury on his gaunt face. 

"Where is Schuldig?" 

The man spoke to him in English so he answered in the same language after staring up at him impassively. "How the hell should I know? I was unconscious." 

The man scowled at him. "Don’t play dumb with me. The two of you must be holed up somewhere. Do I have to tear your mind apart to find out where?" 

Aya knew he had to think fast here. "We came here straight from the airport." 

"Where did you come from?" 

"Japan." 

The man looked thoughtful. "You think very quickly. I wonder…" 

Aya felt a pressure in his head. It felt much the same as Schuldig trying to read his mind. He automatically shielded as best he could. The man’s fury subsided a little. 

"Well, well, you seem to be quite the consolation prize. Impressive shields and some pre-cognition." The stranger turned to one of the other two men in the room and said something in German before turning and smiling down at him. He decided he had much preferred the fury. That cold smile was unnerving. 

"You are only a very minor talent so we have to clear your mind of all the bad habits you will have picked up. Then we will train you properly." 

Every muscle in his body stiffened. Very few of his memories were good ones, but they were his. The thought of losing all memory of Yohji appalled him. "No." 

The man smirked. "Do you honestly think you have any choice in this? Dubois, Andrews, take him to the treatment room please." 

* * * * * * * 

Yohji watched as an unconscious Aya was carried into the building. What had the fucking idiot been thinking he could achieve against these monsters? He followed at a discreet distance, noting when the security guard dumped his lover’s katana on a side table and promptly forgot about it. Yohji strengthened that forgetfulness and kept following. The guards dumped Aya in a room then left him and disappeared back to their posts. 

He hid himself as Dietmeiller and two others approached the room and waited to see what would happen. He felt Aya’s sudden fear and Dietmeiller’s satisfaction and it took all his willpower not to enter the room and try to kill the German. 

The door opened and Aya was led from the room by the two men that had followed Dietmeiller into it. It was time for him to follow them and avoid Dietmeiller. 

Unfortunately, Dietmeiller came into the hallway at that very moment so he schooled his expression to one of total disinterest. 

Dietmeiller gave him a close scrutiny. "Are you concerned about our new pre-cog?" 

Yohji tried to appear innocent. "Is that who that was? Is he any good?" He showed some interest, as was expected, but let no hint of recognition show. 

Dietmeiller sneered. "Not that good, but he’ll do. Any news on the telekinetic?" 

"Oh I think he’s on his way. I’m still broadcasting to him." Dietmeiller smiled. 

"Well, you had a success with the telepath. He’s in the area so it’s only a matter of time before we pick him up." 

Yohji nodded and assumed a pleased expression. "Happy to have been of help." 

Dietmeiller nodded in return and headed towards his office. Once he turned the corner in the hallway, Yohji took off at a run after Aya and his captors. He soon found them and followed at a discreet distance. 

They went back past the table where the katana lay and Yohji picked it up in passing. He continued to follow until he was sure of the room that Aya was being taken to. Once certain of that, he doubled back to his own room and hid the katana under the mattress until he could get it back to his owner. 

He sat on the bed and checked his watch, thankful that they had not recognised it for the lethal weapon it was. Now he just had to bide his time until the place calmed down enough for him to act.


	15. The Hunters and the Hunted

Nagi was the first to enter the arrivals lounge at Munich airport having suggested to both Ken and Omi that it might just be the wisest course considering Farfarello's nature. He spotted Farfarello immediately, sitting on a plastic seat with a canvas pack at his feet. He seemed quite calm and collected and Nagi approached and smiled at him. 

Farfarello jumped to his feet and actually hugged him. He returned the hug in some surprise before turning the berserker to face his new teammates. 

"They’re our friends, Farfie. One of them is in the hands of Rosenkreuz as he’s one of us. Schu and Abyssinian have gone ahead to try and get him and Crawford back." 

Farfarello nodded his understanding. "Yet Crawford needs us there too." 

"Yes, he needs all of us." 

Nagi was relieved to see Farfarello nod again as Ken and Omi approached. 

"Everything okay?" Ken asked. Farfarello grinned at him. 

"It will be, when we get our friends back. Let’s stop wasting time." 

Ken grinned back, much to Nagi’s satisfaction. Omi came forward then and, although he didn’t smile, he did nod to Farfarello in acknowledgement. Farfarello nodded back and picked up his bag. "What’s the plan?" 

Nagi shrugged, unsure how to answer. "We head to the Rosenkreuz building and take it from there." 

Farfarello snorted in wry amusement. "Some plan! I guess Crawford knows what he’s doing…" 

Nagi nodded. "He’d better, or we’re all that’s left." Farfarello stared at him for a long moment before speaking again. Then, his response was simple. 

"That’s not acceptable." 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig felt crippled without his talent but knew he had to get into the building and somehow find Brad. Yohji would take care of Aya, of that he was certain. He crept forward a few more feet. All was quiet. 

He tried the back entrance he’d reached and found it unlocked. His mind screamed trap at him but he had to let his friend know that help was at hand. Silently, he opened the door and slid into the building. He shut the door behind him and took a few seconds to let his night vision adjust. 

He knew exactly where to look and headed towards the rooms where Rosenkreuz held new recruits and those who needed ‘special’ treatment. Crawford was in the third one he tried. 

He crossed quickly to the bed and touched his leader gently. Hazel eyes flickered open and stared at him, a wealth of pain in their depths. Schuldig sank to his knees to save Brad from having to keep looking up. 

"Is Abyssinian here?" the American asked. 

Schuldig nodded. "Yes, they caught him earlier." 

Crawford made a satisfied little noise. "Good. His talent should distract everyone for just long enough." 

Schuldig took Brad’s hand in one of his. "They’ve silenced me again, Brad, but the others are on their way." 

Crawford sniffed. "You’re silenced and I have a head full of white noise. What a sorry pair we are. Luckily Balinese is aware and busy thinking things through. He let me send the first message by pretending I was still blinded." 

Schuldig grinned. "He’s a useful man to have around. What was the vision?" 

Crawford produced a reasonable facsimile of one of his small, evil smirks. "Kudoh goes after Fujimiya. They kill the Brain Butcher." 

Schuldig made a small sound of satisfaction. Something else occurred to him. "What about me? You want me to get you out? We could go now." 

Crawford shook his head. "No. Not yet. We need the others. And, I’m sorry Schu, but I saw pain in your future." 

Schuldig shuddered slightly. Brad was telling him he would be caught very soon. "Okay. But I will get you out of here, Brad, I promise you that." 

Crawford nodded before wincing slightly. "Not much time. Make another promise, Schu. Promise that if you can’t free me, you’ll kill me. The vision could go either way so promise." 

He was horrified. "The Farf would kill me!" 

"Promise me!" Crawford was clutching the front of his leather jacket, the hazel gaze intent. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath as he admitted defeat. Brad Crawford couldn’t live like this and he knew it. "I promise." 

Crawford let go of him and fell back on the bed, exhausted. "You’d better go, Schu. Nothing will happen to me tonight." 

He snorted in amusement. "With a head full of white noise, how can you tell?" 

Crawford raised a brow. "Saw it earlier. Now go." 

He rose to his feet and gave Brad a brief wave before leaving the room. He retraced his steps and had almost reached the door when Dietmeiller stepped out of the shadows. 

"Ah, Schuldig, how good of you to come to me. Now I just need Naoe, and my tame empath assures me he’s on his way. Then nice little mind wipes and you’ll all be just as useful as the empath." 

He glared at the Brain Butcher knowing he was helpless. "Damn you to hell." 

Dietmeiller smirked at him. "Ja, ja, very dramatic but completely superfluous." 

There was a sharp pain in his head as the Butcher used his talent, then Schuldig knew no more. 

* * * * * * * 

Dietmeiller awoke to the new morning with an air of anticipation. Not only did he have Schuldig to play with, but he’d acquired a brand new, if minor pre-cog. He smirked to himself and flung the covers off, more than ready to get on with the day. 

An hour later, showered, shaved and immaculately dressed he entered the treatment room. The red-haired precog was strapped to the bed, his eyes furious. Such lovely eyes, Dietmeiller decided, and set in such a pretty face. He might even keep this one as a personal pet once his training was done. 

Ah yes, his training would need his mind cleared. Dubois was quite adept at wiping memories. He would let the Frenchman wipe this one’s mind whilst he went to deal with Schuldig. But first, some fun. "We will clean your mind of memory, thus leaving your personality intact. You will then be trained how to use your talent effectively and for our good." 

The young man on the bed didn’t respond, merely glared up at him which was a little disappointing as there was no fear in those lovely eyes. Well, perhaps he would be more amenable when Dubois had finished with him. He turned on his heel and went to inform the Frenchman of his orders. After he had done that, the real fun would begin. 

* * * * * * * 

"There it is." 

Farfarello gestured towards the large, forbidding building at the edge of the forest. Then he spat on the ground. "Full of such sadists and perverts that would make a devil blush." 

Omi shuddered at the words, knowing that two, no three if he was honest with himself, of his friends were being held in such a place. "Do we go straight in?" 

Nagi shook his head. "Neither Schu nor Crawford have been released from the suppression of their talents yet. We have enough time in which to take out quite a few of the security guards in the grounds." 

Omi glanced at his lover in shock, knowing how much Nagi detested needless killing. "Is that really necessary?" 

Nagi just shrugged. "You think Rosenkreuz employ regular security? Those guards are minor talents who never made it to field status and are just as vicious as anyone in the building." 

Omi sighed and palmed a dart. His crossbow and a quiver of bolts was strapped to his back and the gauntlets under his sleeves were full of darts. He was as ready as he’d ever be. 

Farfarello produced his favourite stiletto from the gods knew where and Ken had already pulled on his bugnuks, his dark eyes blazing with anger. 

Omi nodded. "Okay, let’s go." 

They moved forward through the forest until they reached a tall chain-link fence. Omi flung one of his darts at it and was relieved to see none of the sparks that would mark it as having high-tension electricity running through it. He produced a pair of bolt-croppers from a pocket and cut a hole large enough for them to crawl through. 

"We’d better spread out," Nagi suggested. Ken and Farfarello nodded and headed in opposite directions. Omi touched Nagi’s hand briefly before moving forward and to the right. Nagi went towards the left. 

The sound of a cut off squeal and a muffled thud let him know that the killing had started again. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig came to, strapped to a gurney in a white room with no windows and a single florescent strip. He groaned in pain. His head felt as if a mad percussionist had taken up residence in it and was using the inside of his skull to practice on. 

As if that wasn’t enough, Dietmeiller chose that moment to enter the room. The bastard was smiling which meant he was going to be in for a world of pain very soon. At least Brad had been right about the Butcher waiting a few hours before starting on his fun. The others should be close at hand by now, if he could just hold on for long enough. 

Dietmeiller ran a possessive hand along his cheek and he flinched away from the touch. "Good morning, Schuldig. What a delightful day this is!" 

"Oh perlease, just get on with the usual sadism and spare me the so-called pleasantries. That smile alone is enough to make strong men tremble." He had the satisfaction of seeing the smile die and an expression of fury cross Dietmeiller’s face. 

"You always were too smart mouthed for your own good, Schuldig. Now stop it, unless you want this to hurt even more than it’s already going to." 

He made a big production of rolling his eyes and appearing completely bored, despite the cold knot of fear that was settling in the pit of his stomach. 

"I was going to simply wipe your mind,” the Brain Butcher continued, “but I’ve decided your attitude needs some adjustment. In other words, I intend to punish you for your audacity." 

There was blinding pain that made him arch off the bed in agony. His last coherent thought was of a pair of honest, chocolate-brown eyes. "Kenken," he murmured before blessed darkness engulfed him.


	16. The Best Laid Plans

Yohji reached under the mattress and retrieved Aya’s katana before heading for the door. He could feel the others in the grounds together with a buzz of emotion that was slightly off key. Farfarello? He shrugged indifferently. Just as long as the psychopath was on their side he was welcome to be here. He’d be his best buddy if it got them all out of here alive. 

He edged the door open and checked the hallway, still not entirely prepared to rely on his empathic skills. The coast was clear so he stepped out of his room and went in search of his love. 

It took no more than a moment or two to reach the treatment room. Aya was there, strapped to a bed and a short, balding man was arranging some sort of machinery over his lover’s head. 

He dropped the katana and had the wire out in seconds tossing it at the Rosenkreuz agent. He let out a grunt of satisfaction when it caught round his victim’s throat. A quick flick of his wrist and the wire bit in, hard enough to sever the windpipe. The only way the bastard would be breathing from now on would be through the hole in his throat. 

Yohji retrieved the wire and wound it back into his watch. Then he kicked the body out of the way and removed the machinery. Aya gazed impassively up at him. 

He grinned down at his lover, thrilled to see him awake. "Yo! You gonna lie there resting all day?" 

Aya glared at him. "I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t decapitate him completely and cover me with even more of his blood." 

He shrugged. "It was tempting, but I knew you’d be mad if you got covered in gore." 

"I _am_ covered in gore." 

He grimaced as it finally registered, Aya was not pleased. "Hold still if you want to be freed." He quickly unfastened the straps holding Aya’s arms and legs to the bed and helped his lover to sit upright, chafing his ankles and wrists to restore the circulation. His only thanks for his concern was a punch to his chest. 

"Don’t throw my katana around like that." 

He got annoyed. "What was I supposed to do, let him plug you into the fucking mains?" He pushed Aya back down when he tried to stand and went to retrieve the katana. Gravely, he handed it back to its owner. "I’m sorry I dropped it, okay?" 

Aya sighed. "I guess I’m actually going to have to use it again, today. Come on, let’s get on with it." He stood up and followed Yohji to the door. "Which way?" 

"I think they’ll be holding Schu and Crawford near to my room. It seems to be an area kept for new recruits and those marked for punishment." 

"So you’re what? A good little trustee?" 

He grinned. "The stupid bastard was so excited to have me here that he forgot to check my memory. I got a painless crash course in how to use my talent and was then told to find, and lure in, Schu and Nagi. Thing was, I already knew they were on their way, so I could look like a good little agent. Neat huh?" 

Aya shook his head in obvious disbelief. "It was incredibly dangerous, you idiot. Suppose he suddenly decided to check your thoughts?" 

He shrugged, not able to see Aya’s problem with his actions. "He’s not a telepath. He’s a suppresser." 

"Whatever, let’s go." 

Ah, okay, so now he was dealing with Abyssinian. Fine. In that case the bastard could wait on knowing he had all his memory back. Sighing slightly, he led the way back from where he’d come. They needed to find Schu and quickly. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig was fighting as well as he could, which wasn’t saying an awful lot. Dietmeiller had years of experience in torturing both Rosenkreuz agents and new talents. 

The pain subsided suddenly and Dietmeiller grinned down at him. "Not so clever with the mouth now, are you Schuldig?" 

He knew he had to buy the others time, Yohji especially, but it hurt so. He glared at the Brain Butcher, hoping that Brad hadn’t fucked up after all. "Bite me," he said very deliberately. 

The pain was back and he closed his eyes and bit into his bottom lip to stop himself from screaming. 

* * * * * * * 

An agonised groan assured Aya that they were heading in the right direction. He motioned to Yohji to enter the room first. Dietmeiller should accept him being there for enough seconds to be able to deal with him. 

Yohji nodded his understanding and strolled into the room, Aya just behind him, katana in one hand, saya in the other. 

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Dietmeiller demanded angrily, before grimacing in pain. 

"Just thought you should feel some of what Schuldig is feeling right now," Yohji remarked almost pleasantly. "It seems only fair." 

It was all the time he needed to get round Yohji and swing the katana in a swift arc until it was brought to a halt by Dietmeiller’s body. He had made no mistake and the blade had bitten into Dietmeiller’s side so hard it had almost cut the man in two. 

There was a groan from the gurney as Schuldig realised that the pain was fading with his torturer’s death. 

He made a swift decision. "Help him. I’ll find Crawford." He left Yohji to it and slipped out of the room only to come face to face with three more Rosenkreuz agents. There was a sharp pain in his head and the katana and saya fell from suddenly nerveless fingers. Cursing himself for being too damned cocky, Aya slid down the wall. 

* * * * * * * 

Nagi entered the building and ran through its hallways, determined to find his friends. He knew that Omi, Ken and Farfarello were taking out everything behind him so only needed to worry about what might be ahead. Turning a corner he found Aya slumped on the floor with three agents gathered round him. He lifted his hands and made a squeezing motion. Two of the agents fell like puppets with the strings suddenly cut, their hearts crushed to useless pulp. The third agent turned to face this new threat, his own arms raised. There was a sudden blur of movement and Aya’s katana blade appeared through the centre of the man’s chest. 

Nagi nodded to the swordsman in thanks a bit surprised at the speed with which he had moved. Aya nodded back and clambered to his feet before bracing his foot against his victim and withdrawing the sword from his lifeless body. 

Nagi glanced down the corridor. "Did you find Schu, Yohji and Crawford?" 

Aya nodded. "Schu and Yohji, yes. I was just going to look for Crawford." 

Nagi acknowledged the words with a nod and turned to investigate the rooms on the left, leaving Aya to deal with those on the right. He found Crawford in the second room he tried. The man was in some pain and Nagi guessed that he was experiencing several visions at once, having had them blocked for a while. 

He crossed the room quickly and touched Crawford gently on the shoulder. He received a brief smile and a mumbled word of thanks. He was about to reply when Farfarello burst into the room and flung himself down by the bed, murmuring incoherent apologies for leaving them all. Nagi smiled slightly and undid the restraints holding Brad to the bed. 

Farfarello took the hint and started rubbing Crawford’s arms. Nagi moved to his legs and concentrated on getting the blood moving. A hiss of pain told him he had succeeded. Pins and needles would be a real bitch for the next few moments. 

Aya and Yohji appeared in the doorway, supporting Schuldig between them. "Let’s get out of here," Aya said. "We’re in no state to take on the whole of Rosenkreuz." 

Nagi nodded and he and Farfarello helped Crawford to sit up. The man tried to stand and Farfarello was immediately there, one shoulder under Crawford’s arm. They crept out of the room and met Ken and Omi in the hallway. Nobody said anything, the enormity of what they’d achieved had not yet sunk in completely. 

* * * * * * * 

Two hours later they were all at Munich airport, waiting for the next flight to London. "So," Ken wanted to know, "where are we going to fit two more people? In the attic?" 

Schuldig chuckled softly. "That rather depends, Kenken." He watched in some amusement as Ken blushed and Aya and Yohji glanced at each other uncomfortably. He moved a little closer to Ken and spoke directly into his mind. 

*I always thought you were the trusting hothead. Fools rush in and all that shit.* 

Ken scowled so prettily. *What’s that supposed to mean?* 

*Hmm. Perhaps you are as oblivious as everyone seems to think you are…* 

*Schu…* Almost a whine there. Then Schuldig got a shock. *I thought you and Brad were a couple.* 

He felt his eyes widen in surprise. *Mein Gott! No! We irritate the hell out of each other. Besides, the Farf would gut me if I even looked at him.* 

*Farf?* Now it was Ken’s turn to be surprised. Schuldig nodded, eyes twinkling in amusement. *Yes. He’s had a crush on Bradley for years. I think he only realised it when he ran off with a woman.* 

*So you and Crawford aren’t…?* 

*Perhaps not so oblivious after all, liebling.* Ken’s eyes widened at the endearment then he blushed and smiled. 

*I just thought I never had a chance. I’m just a dumb jock and you’re a sophisticated man of the world.* 

*Stop putting yourself down, Kenken. You’re brighter than you look.* 

A welter of indignant thoughts pummelled his mind as Ken looked around for something to hit him with. It was perhaps just as well, Schuldig decided, that their flight was called at that precise moment. 

* * * * * * * 

Omi was both amused and taken aback when Nagi’s head rested on his shoulder once they were on the plane. It was strange. Even on their flight from Japan to England, he would have been very upset about such a public display of affection. Now he simply placed an arm round his lover’s shoulders. "Tired?" 

"Not especially. I didn’t need to do anything really spectacular, after all. Mamoru?" 

"Yes? Though actually I think I’d prefer to be Omi again." 

"That was pretty much what I was going to ask. And if you were intending to return to Japan." 

"I’m not entirely sure, Nagi. I think, especially now that there seem to be eight of us, that we all need to sit down together and decide where we want to go from here. Yohji was right, I didn’t do well by the three men I regard as my elder brothers. I don’t ever want to put them in that kind of danger again." 

"There’s something else, too. Well, a couple of somethings really. First, you now have two new talents in your ‘family’ and that needs to be addressed as we’ve only hurt Rosenkreuz, not destroyed them. Second, I don’t want to work for you anymore. If this relationship is going to go anywhere, then it’s going to be because we’re equals." 

Omi smiled and squeezed Nagi gently. "I agree on both issues. We really are going to have a lot to talk about." 

Nagi twisted his head so he could look up at his boyfriend and his rare smile lit up his features. "You know, there’s hope for you yet." 

Omi grinned back down at him. "Don’t make me resort to the tickle torture." 

Nagi snorted in amused disdain. "As if you could pin me down for long enough." 

"I can always try. Sleep, love, we can do all the discussing and plan-making later." He hugged Nagi close and closed his own eyes. Time enough to talk when they were all rested and whole again.


	17. Alternatives

When they arrived back in Lewisham, Yohji helped out with the sleeping arrangements by dragging Aya into his room, leaving the swordsman’s room free for whoever wanted it. He really didn’t care where the others slept. He was too exhausted to take any interest at all in the subject. 

For once, Aya didn’t fight him. He simply gave him a warning look, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. Yohji joined him seconds later. They were both asleep in minutes. 

He woke, hours later, to find Aya holding onto him as if afraid he would vanish. He thought back to the last time they had shared this bed and realised his lover might have a point. He had woken up alone. 

Yohji brushed a hand through silken hair, glad that the crimson was growing back. The slight touch caused Aya to open his eyes and glare. "Yotan…" 

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you." 

"Hn." Aya moved away and went to sit up. 

"Hey, where are you going?" 

"If you’re awake, then everyone else is. We need to talk." 

Yohji sighed, realising the truth of this. Then he remembered something he had to tell Aya. "Dietmeiller made me see the missing memories." Beside him, Aya stiffened. 

"So you remember…Asuka?" 

"Yes. It was weird. When he showed me the memories, all I could think about was you." He turned to look at the man who had come to mean so much to him over the years. "She’s just a memory now, that’s all." 

Aya climbed out of the bed and dressed. Yohji jumped up and tried to stop him. "I mean it. You’re the only one that matters now." 

"We’ll talk about it later. Right now we need to decide what we’re going to do from now on. Rosenkreuz won’t just go away." 

Yohji was about to open his mouth to argue, when Aya leaned against him and put a finger against his lips. "Not now, Yohji. Later, I promise." 

Something tight seemed to ease in him at Aya’s words. "Okay. Later. I suppose we’d better go and make sure Farfarello isn’t wrecking the place." He climbed into his clothes and, after a quick, snatched kiss, followed Aya downstairs. 

Ken was at the stove pouring beaten eggs into a pan, while bacon sizzled in another. Schuldig was making coffee. They both looked up and grinned. 

"Sleep well?" Ken asked. 

"Like the dead. You?" 

"Yeah. You want tea, Aya?" 

"Coffee’s fine, thanks. Judging by the huge pile of bacon and eggs everyone is up and about." 

"Yep, you two were the last. Nagi’s in the garden with Crawford and Farfarello while Omi’s taking a shower." 

Yohji snagged a piece of bacon from the pan and bit into it. "Nobody’s tried to kill anyone then?" 

"I think, if we’re going to have any problems, it will be today," Schuldig said thoughtfully. "We were all too tired when we got here." 

Yohji nodded his agreement and attempted to steal more bacon. Ken whacked his hand with the spatula. "Wait!" 

* * * * * * * 

Omi didn’t know if he could do this. As it was he was going to give everyone severe whiplash. Could he really be naïve and cheerful Tsukiyono Omi again? 

He approached the kitchen just in time to hear Yohji yelp and Ken tell him to wait, and he smiled. Some things never changed. That thought raised his spirits quite considerably and he entered the room with a smile on his face. 

"Good morning! Um…is it still morning?" 

Schuldig glanced at his watch. "Just about. It’s eleven-thirty." 

Glad to have that point cleared up, Omi started setting the table whilst humming softly to himself. The absolute silence around him made him look up. All four of his companions were staring at him in shock. "What?" 

Yohji was the first to react by picking him up and swinging him round. "Glad to have you back, chibi." 

Omi blushed when set on his feet again. "You…you don’t mind?" 

"Mind? I’m ecstatic! You’ve finally remembered who your real family are." 

"Seems like it might have grown some." He glanced at Schuldig and, for the first time, smiled at him. It wasn’t a forced smile, it was completely natural. The man had gone through too much for the sake of the rest of them to be considered an enemy anymore. 

Schuldig looked a little startled but then smiled back . Omi was pleased to note that this one reached his eyes, unlike his usual smirk. 

There was the sound of more arrivals and Omi turned to see Nagi, Crawford and Farfarello had entered the kitchen. His smile became uncertain all at once. Nagi smiled and hugged him and Farfarello gave him a grin. Crawford merely nodded, seemingly as unsure as he was. 

"Breakfast is ready," Ken said breezily and set down a huge bowl of scrambled eggs and a platter of bacon. Schuldig added the coffee pot and everyone seated themselves at the table. Time to get down to business, Omi realised. 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford was distinctly uncomfortable. Nagi was obviously intending to stay with Tsukiyono and Schuldig seemed to be very much at home here. Even Farfarello was able to get on with the people who had helped him to get his leader back. He, on the other hand, had spent most of his time actively plotting against four of the men he was eating breakfast with. He found he had to know something and turned to Kudoh. 

"Why did you let Dietmeiller believe my talent to be suppressed?" 

Kudoh glanced up from his breakfast with a surprised look on his face. "Because somebody needed to let Schu and the others know what was happening and besides, I wouldn’t leave a dog at that sadist’s mercy," he said as if the answer was obvious. 

"How did you know I wouldn’t double cross you?" 

"I didn’t. But I didn’t think you’d double cross Schu or Nagi. If you had, I’d have killed you myself." 

Farfarello glanced up from his food and glared warningly at Kudoh. "You would not," he said. 

Crawford jumped back in before the two men could turn it into a pissing contest. "I see," he said calmly. "But you are leaving something out, aren’t you?" 

Kudoh stared down at his plate, obviously still uncomfortable with his new powers. "Yeah," he said finally, "I read your emotions. All you were concerned about was keeping Schu, Nagi and me safe from Rosenkreuz." 

"Thank you. And you were right to trust your talent. It will never lead you astray." He glanced round the table. "We need to discuss where we go from here." 

Tsukiyono nodded his agreement, while Fujimiya and Hidaka merely stared at him challengingly. He couldn’t really blame them. He opened his mouth to say something further when a vision hit him. 

He saw them living and working together, domestic scenes of Aya tending the garden, Ken and Schu building a conservatory so Yohji could grow the orchids he loved, Omi and Nagi decorating a room together, Farfarello sanely traversing the aisles of a supermarket. The vision shifted and he saw a new structure, a council of major talents, come to power in Rosenkreuz. He saw them turn their attention to world domination and the garnering of unaligned talents. Again the vision shifted and he saw the eight of them defy Rosenkreuz and save the mundanes of the world from almost total annihilation. 

He opened his eyes to seven men, all with very concerned expressions on their faces, staring at him. "I think we need to stay together." It was all he thought he could manage to say at that moment. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig offered Yohji a cigarette and they both lit up with almost identical satisfied sighs. The breakfast discussion had gone on well into the afternoon as there were lots of details that needed to be worked out. There was to be no Persia and no following of a single person’s orders. Those with talent would share visions, thoughts and feelings with the others and all would decide what they should do with the information. Schuldig could only hope that such decisions didn’t take as long to resolve as their internal politics had. 

But he supposed that all in all, it had been worth all the time. There were to be no more assassinations unless it was of Rosenkreuz personnel. That decision had seemed to please everyone, even Farfarello surprisingly enough. Then the one-eyed man had dropped a bombshell by telling them that he wanted to be known as Jei from now on. 

Money was not a problem. They all had plenty left over from their time as assassins. Filling their time might be more difficult. He glanced at Yohji and smirked mischievously. 

"You sure you don’t want another flower shop?" 

"Don’t even go there, Schu! If you thought Omi was bossy as Persia, try him getting you out of bed for a shift in a shop." Yohji stared thoughtfully at the end of his cigarette. "I keep thinking about returning to the detective work." 

He nodded. "It’s a possibility. Or perhaps we could be security consultants." 

Yohji stared at him. "Now that’s not a bad idea. Let’s face it, we’d know every weakness a building could possibly possess between us." 

"With Nagi’s talent, even structural weaknesses." Schuldig smiled to himself. It would be rather nice to earn money that he didn’t have to kill to get. 

"Then there’s bodyguard work, the transport of valuables and decoy work." Yohji was obviously getting really interested in the idea. 

Schuldig grinned and flipped his cigarette away. "It would stop us from getting too bored and, if we offered all those services, would be enough work for all of us." 

Yohji nodded thoughtfully as he dropped his own finished smoke and stepped on it. "I don’t think Aya or Ken would take much persuading. Would Crawford be interested?" 

"Yotan…who the hell do you think saw it in the first place?" 

Yohji sighed. "I should have known." 

* * * * * * * 

The dinnertime discussion was much shorter than the breakfast one had been, all of them jumping at the idea of a security consultancy and the varied services related to it. It was agreed that all prospective clients would be carefully vetted for any Rosenkreuz or underworld links. There was absolutely no point in strengthening places or organisations that they might have to take out one day. 

Aya smiled to himself. Whether he wanted it or not, Crawford would probably end up being the boss. It made sense really. He had the clearest head and a liking for paperwork. As long as they remained equals at home, it didn’t really matter much to Aya. 

He nodded his assent to most of the ideas put forward and agreed that Ken, Schuldig and Crawford should find suitable premises for the office. Omi and Nagi would be in charge of computer related security and he, Yohji, Jei, Ken and Schuldig would be field operatives. Strangely enough, he was more interested in finding a good garden centre. 

Yohji caught his eye, after dinner, and he sighed inwardly. He supposed they had to talk about Asuka and Neu and all the rest of the crap that had been released from his lover’s mind. He nodded and followed Yohji up the stairs to the man’s room. 

Once there, he found himself swept into Yohji’s arms and kissed rather thoroughly. He returned the kiss and was happy enough until they both came up for air. 

"Ayan, we need to talk." 

Here it came, he realised, guilt over Asuka/Neu, a desire for women, same old story. He braced himself and asked, "What do you need to talk about?" 

"Well, it’s been a day for discussing the future so I think we need to decide ours, you know? Stuff like are you moving in here or do you want to keep your room?" 

He stared at his lover in shock. That had not been what he’d expected. "What about Asuka? Don’t you want to talk about that?" 

Yohji shrugged. "Not really. She’s a memory, Ayan, nothing more. It just took me way too long to realise it. If Rosenkreuz taught me anything, it was that." 

"It was perhaps as well for all of us that you were still emotionally attached to her." 

"Maybe. And maybe that’s why I still was. Schu seems to think that the empathy might have been finding a way to protect my real feelings. Gods, Aya, if they’d used my memories of you, they’d have won and I’d have lost you forever." Aya winced slightly as Yohji’s arms tightened around him in a sudden bear hug. 

"But…you could never wait to get away from me and pick up some woman or other to help you forget." 

Yohji turned angry eyes on him. "The only women I’ve had since you became my lover are those that Kritiker wanted me to go after." 

"They didn’t send you after Neu." He couldn’t help the bitterness in that statement. Yohji had nearly been killed by the bitch, had allowed her to betray him twice. 

"Where were you when I did that? You’d got as far away from the rest of us as you could. We helped you get your revenge and then you just walked away from us." Yohji sounded just as bitter over that and Aya hung his head in acknowledgement. 

"I had to protect my sister." 

"Yeah, and look where that got you. The second time, when I brought her to the Koneko, I was trying to get Asuka back, because I knew Asuka would never want to harm your sister. I know, before you say anything, that she played me for a fool. Asuka herself was the only woman who never did play me, anymore than you ever did. You just left me or pushed me away." 

"I had to protect myself." 

"No, Aya, after Neu you never needed to protect yourself. I would never have deliberately hurt you." 

He shook his head. "Not from you, from myself. I started to panic, wondering what the hell I would do if anything ever happened to you. And then Ken and Omi said what a mess you were when Shion nearly killed me… Our lifestyle was such that we couldn’t afford to be that close." 

"And now?" 

He raised a hand, touched Yohji’s cheek, marvelling at how they’d found each other again. "Fate seems to keep pushing us together. I can’t argue with fate." 

"So, which one of us is moving their things?" 

He sighed as he glanced round the room. Yohji was already turning it into a home. "I have less to move." 

The huge, real smile that transformed Yohji’s face should have been enough to convince him of the man’s feelings but he still felt inordinately happy when Yohji quietly told him how much he loved him. 

"I’d better get my stuff." 

"Leave it till the morning." 

He smiled and moved closer for another searing kiss which seemed to take Yohji by surprise. He quickly used his advantage to wrestle them both onto the bed where they landed in a tangle of limbs and warm bodies. 

"Fuck…Aya." 

"Shush." He kissed Yohji again and not just because it was the only way to shut the idiot up. "I want you," he murmured against warm lips and felt Yohji shudder. 

He sat up and pulled off his shirt. "Clothes off, Kudoh," he growled. He moved to a sitting position so he could take the rest of his own clothes off and then turned to see how Yohji was doing. 

Yohji was stretched out on the bed, totally naked and smiling gently. His heart did a flip flop at the sight. So very beautiful. He leaned over Yohji and kissed him yet again, kneading the muscles of his chest as he did so. Yohji’s arms pulled him closer and he lost himself in sensation as they kissed again. 

He felt something pressed into his hand and broke off the kiss long enough to discover what it might be. Yohji had presented him with a tube of lubricant. He met his lover’s eyes, brows raised in query. It wasn’t often that Yohji wanted him to top. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, needing the matter to be cleared up before he did something stupid. 

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I need to know you really do still want me, even after everything I’ve put you through." 

He placed a finger to Yohji’s lips and shook his head. "We cannot live in the past any longer, Yohji. We have to move on, to build a future." Strange that he should be the one to say those words. He had always been the pessimist before, but something about the past week or two had changed him completely. His sister was safe and all the other people that meant anything to him were here, in this house. Time to start living. He was rewarded by Yohji’s stunning and very real smile. 

"Sounds so fucking good to hear you say that, Aya. A future…and we actually have one now." 

He kissed Yohji again. It really was the only way to shut him up. A hardness pressing against his own arousal made him stop kissing Yohji and pull back. "Mine." 

"Oh gods, Aya, yes, all yours." 

Fumbling slightly with the cap, Aya opened the tube and smeared a generous glob of lube onto his fingers. He shimmied down the bed and took Yohji deep into his mouth. He was rewarded with a groan of pure want. Holding and licking his treat with one hand, he teased at Yohji’s tight opening with the other, slowly working a finger into the deep, welcoming warmth. Yohji gasped and arched almost off the bed. Aya moved his mouth away and glanced up. 

"Steady, Yotan." 

"Ne….Aya….feels so….fucking good." 

Aya smiled and added a second finger, stretching Yohji gently but very thoroughly. A third finger had Yohji bucking again, so Aya took his cock back into his mouth in order to distract him for a while. Finally satisfied that Yohji was as ready as he would ever be, Aya removed his fingers. There was a moan of loss from Yohji as he moved away from his cock. 

"Ready?" 

"More than ready." 

Pushing Yohji’s legs up and out, Aya positioned himself and gently pushed into Yohji’s body. Tight, clenching heat met him and welcomed him and he sank into it up to his balls. He stopped to let them both catch their breath. 

"Ayan!" A low whine from his lover. "Fuck me already." 

And so he did, with long, languorous strokes that had Yohji gasping and clutching at him. He leant forward and stole a kiss before whispering in Yohji’s ear. "Play with yourself. I want to see you touch yourself." 

With a low whimper of pure lust, Yohji did just that. The sight had Aya moaning in pleasure and thrusting into him more forcefully. With a harsh cry, Yohji spurted over his belly and chest. Aya leant forward and lapped eagerly at the creamy strings which was enough to send him over the edge and he came with a little moan of pleasure. He collapsed, panting, against Yohji’s chest and strong arms wrapped round him in welcome. 

"Jeez, Aya, that was incredible." 

"Hn." Suddenly exhausted he eased out of Yohji, causing both of them to hiss in loss, and rolled onto his side. Yohji kept hold of him and reached out for the shirt he’d removed to clean them off with. 

He felt so peaceful for once, so fulfilled. "I love you, Yohji." Finally he could admit to the truth. 

"I love you, too." Finished with the shirt, Yohji pulled him close and the curled up around each other. Very soon they were asleep in each other’s arms.


	18. Epilogue - Release

Aya woke in a hospital bed, attached to a battery of monitors and drips. His side felt sore, he supposed from the knife wound. Had he been dreaming all that about London and Yohji? Was he still in a New York City hospital? He swallowed hard, desperately trying to fight back the bitter tears. 

"You need some water?" 

His eyes snapped open at the sound of that voice, the most beautiful voice in the world. He managed to nod. 

Yohji supported him and held a glass with a straw to his lips. He drank gratefully before digging his fingers into Yohji’s sleeve. "Who are you?" 

"Anaesthesia still getting to you? I’m Yohji, of course. Who did you think I was." 

"Did I get stabbed?" 

"Yeah, about six months ago. That’s not why you’re here." 

"So why am I here?" 

"You complained of gut ache and then collapsed. Frightened the life out of us all. We called an ambulance and you were rushed into surgery. You had a burst appendix and peritonitis from it." 

Aya blinked as his brain started working properly again. He’d had his appendix removed and the hospital was, therefore, in London. His happiness had not been a dream after all. He stopped clutching Yohji’s sleeve but was inordinately pleased when his lover kept a hold on his hand. Weak! He was so weak. But then, perhaps it didn’t matter anymore. 

"So how long am I stuck here this time?" He started to notice details, like the fact that Yohji’s hair had reached his shoulders again and was no longer that ghastly yellow but its own glorious honey blond. He could feel his own hair, already long enough to braid again, spread around him on the pillow. 

"A couple of days." 

"No fucking way! Yotan, get me out of here, right now!" 

"If you do come home you’ll have seven of us fussing over you instead of just me." 

He glared up at Yohji in horror. Those stunning green eyes simply twinkled back at him amusement obvious in their depths. "That’s emotional blackmail of the worst kind." 

"No, sweetheart, its the plain and simple truth." 

"Yotan! Don’t call me sweetheart!" 

~OWARI~


End file.
